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daytonicuconsulting · 1 year

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How Clinicians, Patients, and Families Can Benefit from Better Communication in the ICU

Back when I was studying to become a nurse, I had an experience in the ICU that changed me forever.

As a starry-eyed 18-year-old nursing student, I was incredibly excited to finally be in the ICU, experiencing what I’d dreamed about for so many years.

But when I got there and started to learn what ICU culture is really like, it broke my heart.

At the time, I was pretty chatty, not least because of how excited I was, and the nurse I was shadowing definitely wasn’t a fan.

Eventually, she turned to me and said, “I work here in the ICU so I don’t have to talk to anyone. So, if you’re thinking this is going to be your social hour, you’re wrong.”

Now, I’m not saying that all ICU clinicians are like this, but this is the kind of attitude that ICU culture tends to create, and over the years, not much has changed.

The fact is most ICU clinicians are taught that the most humane thing they can do for patients is to keep them heavily sedated, and as a result, communication in the ICU between clinicians and patients is almost non-existent, as the patients are usually comatose.

But the truth is avoiding communication in the ICU isn’t in anyone’s best interests, and for the most part, keeping patients heavily sedated actually does more harm than good.

Among other things, these practices make clinicians’ jobs harder, erode the health and autonomy of patients, and preclude family involvement.

So, in an effort to set the record straight on communication in the ICU, I wanted to publish an article exploring why this aspect of ICU patient care is so broken, how these shortcomings can affect everyone involved, and what clinicians can do to improve ICU communication.

If you’d like to learn more about communication in the ICU, you can check out Episode 103 of my Walking Home From The ICU podcast.

Why Is Communication in the ICU so Broken?

When I work with ICU teams to help them improve sedation and mobility practices, I find that most ICU clinicians are pretty much lost when it comes to communication.

Often, they’ll ask me questions like, “Okay, now they’re awake. How do we do this?” offering a poignant reminder of how ill-equipped most clinicians are when it comes to communication in the ICU.

But why is this?

Well, aside from the prevailing ICU culture, which teaches clinicians that the best thing they can do for their patients is to keep them heavily sedated, clinicians just aren’t given the training or tools they need for effective communication in the intensive care unit.

For the most part, ICU clinicians don’t expect to have to converse with patients because they’re all too sedated to communicate.

Moreover, ICU teams are not used to taking the patient’s input into consideration when assessing them, or in any way involving them in decisions about the care they’re receiving.

This changes the way that clinicians view their patients, and has a demonstrably dehumanizing effect, as the patient’s wishes aren’t even taken into consideration, much less solicited.

For example, many nurses aren’t even aware of the importance of having a whiteboard or pen and paper in each room, let alone knowing they can contact those who work in speech therapy for help.

As a result, speech therapists typically only come to the ICU to do swallow evaluations after patients have been extubated. And rarely, if ever, are they called in to help clinicians with communication issues.

Why Is Communication in the ICU so Important?

The United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights states that communication is a basic human right, but that only scratches the surface of why communication in the ICU is so important.

For a patient, effective communication in the intensive care unit means everything, as it allows them to have autonomy, dignity, control, connection, and comfort.

At the same time, it keeps them cognitively engaged, helps to prevent delirium, and allows them to be properly informed, have their wishes respected, and communicate their spiritual, physical, and emotional needs.

For families, communication in the ICU allows them to converse with and comfort loved ones, and avoid situations where family members have to make life-changing decisions on behalf of patients without their input.

As a clinician, knowing how to effectively communicate in the ICU just makes everything easier, and mitigates the dehumanizing effect of ICU culture.

It allows you to take less time to assess patients, improves patient safety and compliance, and gives you the chance to develop relationships with patients and build trust by answering their questions and helping them to understand the situations they face.

What Are the Consequences of This Lack of Communication in the ICU?

Lack of communication in the ICU can create dire consequences for clinicians, patients, and their families.

If you’re a patient, this lack of communication can result in trauma, frustration, anxiety, agitation, and delirium, and it also results in patients dealing with unmet needs and suffering from undiagnosed changes.

For example, one of my podcast listeners shared an anecdote with me about one of their patients.

This patient was intubated, but the ICU where they were being treated chose to adhere to evidence-based practices and kept them awake while on the ventilator.

And because they were awake, the patient was able to tell them that they were having chest pain.

At this point, they went ahead and did an x-ray on the patient’s chest, only to find out that they had a pneumothorax. Then, as they were looking at the x-ray, the patient went into respiratory arrest and their heart stopped.

This shows just how important communication in the ICU is, because as a result of the patient being able to communicate, clinicians knew there was something wrong, and were able to find out what it was by taking an x-ray.

More importantly, this also allowed them to save this patient’s life.

But if they’d been unable to speak, clinicians may have never known anything was wrong, wouldn’t have thought to take an x-ray, wouldn’t have known what was causing the patient’s respiratory arrest, and it may have been too late for them to do anything.

At the very least, even if they were able to save the patient, they would have wasted a lot of time figuring out what was causing this to happen. This would have made everything more difficult, not least because it would significantly reduce the patient’s chances of survival.

This lack of effective communication in the intensive care unit can also create serious consequences for patients’ families, as they may have to make gut-wrenching decisions on their behalf, and are otherwise unable to communicate with them during what could be the last moments of their life.

Last but not least, this lack of communication in the ICU can also pose serious problems for clinicians.

For instance, if patients are unable to communicate, it will take much longer to assess them, and this can result in a ton of frustration for clinicians, who have many other patients to see, and don’t have a lot of time to deal with this sort of thing.

This also creates a situation where clinicians will be more inclined to sedate patients, as they’re more likely to become agitated when they can’t communicate, and this makes working conditions less safe.

Furthermore, this all perpetuates the idea that patients can’t be awake and calm on the ventilator, which is one of the things about ICU culture that we desperately need to change.

When it Comes to Communication in the ICU, What Needs to Change?

First and foremost, if we want to improve communication in the ICU, ICU culture needs to change, along with the mindsets of those who work in the ICU.

Instead of avoiding communication with patients, and clinging to the erroneous belief that this makes our jobs easier, we need to fight for patient autonomy.

If we ever want to get out of the situation we’re currently in, these are the kinds of ideas that need to prevail in ICU culture.

ICU clinicians need to be much more concerned with the best interests of the patient, rather than just focusing on what they know, what they’re most comfortable or familiar with, or what’s most convenient for them. And they need to realize that this lack of communication only makes their jobs harder.

At the same time, if families get more engaged and involved with what’s happening to their family members in the ICU, things are bound to change.

Families should demand that their loved ones be able to communicate, and oftentimes, they’re the ones who’ll have to sit there and spend whatever time is necessary to figure out what they’re trying to say and what they want, so family involvement is also key to the resolution of this issue.

What Can Clinicians Do to Improve Communication in the ICU?

I know this seems daunting, but the truth is there are several simple solutions that can be employed in every ICU to improve communication with patients.

Here are some things I like to recommend to ICU clinicians who want to improve their communication:

VidaTalk – This app allows clinicians to communicate with non-verbal patients or those who are otherwise dealing with communication barriers. This software is also a reimbursable intervention, and for each patient who uses it, your hospital can get $1,000 through Medicare or Medicaid.

Paper, pens, and pencils – One of the most effective ways to communicate with non-verbal patients is to allow them to write things down. They may not seem like much, but these items can have a huge impact on communication in the ICU.

Whiteboards or Boogie Boards – Paper takes up a lot of space, and if you’re using a lot of it, it can get expensive. With that in mind, these items offer a great alternative to communicating via pen and paper.

Laptops, tablets, or cell phones – These kinds of devices are absolutely invaluable when it comes to non-verbal communication, so it’s always good to have at least a few on hand in your ICU.

Passy Muir valves – These valves allow patients with tracheostomies to talk by redirecting airflow through the mouth, nose, and vocal folds.

Do you want to improve communication between patients and clinicians in your ICU? We can walk you through the entire process, so please don’t hesitate to contact us.

#intensive care unit #ICU clinicians #ICU patient #ICU care

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dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3 · 2 years

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Ooh I thought of another one: Top 5 favourite tropes (in video games/literary/any kind of media really)? They can be romantic, story-driven, or anything in between - whatever comes to mind!

Oooh, this is a good one! And a hard one, ha. I'm not super knowledgeable about trope things, definitely not enough to have favorites, but I will put the ones I watch/read most often below, in no real order.

I'll put a read more since this got long, like usual. Ha.

Ask me my “TOP 5/TOP 10” anything!

Enemies to friends to lovers (or enemies to lovers, though I like having the "friend" step in there usually). This one is a given, since so many of the fics I've written over the years follow this trope, ha. Also, many of my ships are this as well, so it definitely is a favorite of mine. I just like the idea of forgiveness and being able to move forward, you know? It's why one of TPWP and TPWM's biggest morals is that everyone is flawed and has the potential to hurt other people both intentionally and unintentionally, but that does not mean they are unable to be forgiven. Not if they genuinely want to change and make up what they did wrong. Obviously there is no obligation to forgive someone who has hurt you, but I like the idea of forgiveness being given and being able to love someone after they acknowledge their wrong-doing. I don't know, it's just very poignant to me. This one can also be rivals to friends to lovers, if you want to be less intense with their hatred of one another at first. Ah. Now, this is where it gets complicated for me, because after the first one, I can't really recall tropes I really like. I know AU's I like, but that's different to tropes. I legit had to look up a list of "popular tropes" to even know what tropes there are, oops. Honestly, it's easier to say tropes I dislike, really. But! I did find some.

One I like (when it's done well) is fake dating/fake married. This one can get derivative and boring sometimes, but there are quite a few stories with this trope that I do enjoy. I even wrote two, one a fake married AU (though technically they're really married, they just say they're fake married since it was a marriage for benefits. Or was it??? 😂) and the other the fake dating Ishimondo story I'm posting here on Tumblr.

Another one I found on the list is called "everyone sees it." This is where everyone else can tell they're in love but them. I LOVE this, ha. I write it all the time. It goes well with pining, which I guess is another trope I like. I love when you can write/read about the reactions of their friends and family to their (sometimes purposeful) obliviousness. I really do love this.

I'm not sure if this is a trope or not; it's similar to one I saw on that list, but I added to it. I'll call it "they seem like opposites at first, but the closer they get, the more alike they realize they are." This goes hand in hand with the enemies to friends to lovers one, since they often realize after spending more time together that they actually have a lot of similarities, despite their outward differences. I think this is why I love Ishimondo so much. They really showcase this idea well.

Oooh, one I saw on the list that I genuinely love is "fairytale retelling." This one can be derivative too, but when done well I love it. I also like medieval settings in general. That's more on the AU side rather than trope, but still, I like it.

Okay, that was more challenging than it should have been, but still, I enjoyed it! Thanks for the ask!!

#Ask answers

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atlasshrugd · 3 years

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I understand that buffy was very cruel to spike in season 6 when he was trying to do good, making him revert back to meeting her where she was (in the dark) because it was easier to reach her there. But I don’t think we should conflate this with feeling like Spike was the victim here.

A lot of fans have an issue with how Buffy treated Spike and talk about how sorry they were for Spike, which I’m not disregarding. But I do have an issue with people regarding Spike as the victim in their relationship.

You have to understand what Buffy was dealing with at the time. She was dealing with a deep depression of not wanting to be alive, being brought back from heaven against her will. She wasn’t rational and would do anything to feel something again. Spike knew this and took advantage of her confusion and weakness at this time because he knew that deep down she wanted him too. He knew she just wanted to feel something from the start. In OMWF, she sings “I just want to feel” before they kiss. It’s not like she didn’t make her reasons for doing it clear. Spike knew this, yet grows disillusioned with this reality when he realises that those feelings of desperation and loneliness cannot evolve into love and need for him. He loves her, but she can’t love him. She tells him this many times, but he keeps insisting that no, it’s deeper than that, you are just lying to yourself. Ultimately, this causes Buffy to lash out at him because he is everything she hates, yet she can’t deny her need for him (which is, her need to feel). Spike keeps conflating that need for love, and grows so frustrated at her unrequited feelings that he is pushed to cruelty and violence.

There is no denying that Spike wants to be good for Buffy, but that desire is like a pipe dream. He tries to do good, be kind, and has genuine tenderness towards her. But that kindness can quickly twist into resentment (one, because soulless vampires can’t feel pure love), because Buffy is turning him into the very thing he hates. Something against his nature. His unnatural feelings for the slayer alone torture him, but to have those feelings constantly denied by her tears him up more, because if he is giving all of himself to her, he might as well have all of her in return. Instead, he gets the shameful part of her. For a while, he takes what he can get, but eventually being regarded as the fractured, shameful part of Buffy’s psyche that she can only half-indulge in takes a toll on him, and he starts to question why he is doing it all in the first place.

People also tend to forget that a vampire without a soul IS pretty much a demon with the past-human characteristics. Soulless things cannot feel the whole range of human emotions, like guilt, remorse, empathy, or love. They can, perhaps, feel shadows of those things. Spike is the most human of all the vampires. He does feel guilt and remorse and love. But those feelings, while to him so poignant, are only remnants of true emotions. And if he feels the intensity of them, it is usually for a self-serving reason. That does not mean he can’t do good and selfless things, because he occasionally does. But his love for Buffy is selfish in nature. He sees her as unconquerable, and if she loves him back, then she will be conquered. They will both be conquered by each other, the very mirror of what they both hate.

He does good things and helps her in fights to win Buffy’s favour. He helps the scoobies for her. But people tend to forget that the only reason Spike was a good guy in season 5 and 6 was because he had the chip in his head. He was forced to ally with Buffy and the scoobies and kill demons. That doesn’t make him a good guy. Like Buffy said, he’s like a serial killer in prison. And in s6, when he thought the chip had stopped working, he immediately goes and finds an innocent girl to bite. This obviously proves that he hasn’t changed. He just wasn’t enabled. How did he expect Buffy to love him when he would still kill innocents? That goes against everything she exists for. And when he finds out he can only hurt Buffy, he doesn’t hesitate to hurt her, until she turns it into sex.

So yes, while I do feel sorry for Spike at times, in no way is he a victim and in no way Buffy is the abuser. They both abuse each other, yes, because it is a codependent toxic relationship, but Spike without a soul is still inherently evil. How can you expect Buffy to treat him nicely when he is constantly taking advantage of her weakened state, drawing her into the shadows, and claiming that she feels things she doesn’t feel? She knows what a soulless vampire is, because of Angelus. She is disgusted with herself. She doesn’t believe Spike’s feelings because she knows that soulless vampires can’t love like that. She knows he is using her just as she is using him. She knows that he would be off biting innocents if he didn’t have the chip. How is that something she can love? When he shows great loyalty, like withstanding Glory’s torture, she acknowledges it with gratitude. He can be good. But she can’t trust in that humanity all the time. He is a wild card. He does good things as much as he does evil things. She can’t trust him enough to love him, as she says in seeing red.

There are a few times when Buffy went completely overboard in her mistreatment of Spike, which she mentions briefly in conversations with dead people. I’m not denying that and I’m not saying he deserves it. There was also that time when Buffy was invisible and she basically coerced him to have sex with her, even when Spike was telling her to leave because “If I can’t have all of you...” This is Buffy being selfish and crossing the line. There are things she’s said to him that are completely uncalled for, such as ‘you’re not a man, you’re a thing. An evil, disgusting thing.’ In that moment when she was beating Spike up, she was beating herself up. She knew she came back wrong and wasn’t even fully human anymore. She was abusing herself by abusing Spike, because he is the unclaimed part of her she doesn’t want to accept.

Anyway, this spiralled out of control, but I just wanted to get my thoughts out. The bottom line is Spike is not the victim in their relationship. They are both victims and have both abused. Spike sympathisers often villainize Buffy in their ‘poor spike!’ narrative, but it’s not as simple as that. Soulless Spike did not deserve to be loved. Buffy was wrong a lot, and she also had her reasons. Spike loved Buffy, but couldn’t love her in the way she needed and deserved.

However, a lot of their relationship fluctuations happened because of the different writers. Some episodes, their relationship seemed to mellow and grow, being based on understanding and care. Other episodes, Buffy would revert to being mean and in denial and Spike would revert to being vindictive and blaming Buffy. I think if they had steady writers who understood both Spike and Buffy’s journeys, then their relationship would have been more consistent and less messy.

#I hope this makes sense #thanks for reading #btw I am a spuffy shipper but it’s not so sunshine and rainbows OR doom and gloom #they are so complex and interesting #but yeah too many spike sympathisers #buffy summers #spike #spuffy #buffy x spike #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #s6 #mine #meta #btvs meta

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introvert-celeste · 3 years

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TOH Theory Dump

Okay, Hunter clone theory has been on my mind, and the "bone on ORTET" ingredient in the making of a grimwalker is intriguing.

An ortet is the origin entity (usually seen in plants) from which clones are created, as many people have already pointed out. But who is the ortet in this situation: Philip Wittebane or Emperor Belos? Are they the same person? If that's the case, how has he lived this long? Clearly, the cloning process involves some degree of self-mutilation, seeing as it involves a piece of bone from the ortet, so is that why Belos is in the condition he's in currently? Why?

This is what we know for certain:

Hunter looks very similar to Belos, with the same hair and skin color, hair type, arched nose, and ear notch (in the same ear, no less)

Hunter's burgundy eye color--the one feature they don't share--matches the eyes of the grimwalker detailed in the book

In extension, Belos has blue eyes, and therefore doesn't match the description of the grimwalker

Belos does have pointed ears, but they are far smaller than the average witch's and are closer in appearance to a human's

Additionally, the bridge of his nose is different from the silhouette of Wittebane's, however his hair is similar. Their accents are also similar, however Wittebane and Belos are voiced by different people

According to Gwen, it's rumored that the first human to live in Bonesborough vanished mysteriously

We know next to nothing about Belos and Hunter's "family" except that they were all apparently destroyed by wild magic, and this is what Belos blames for his current ailment

With all that in mind, these are my theories:

I think it's very likely that Hunter is a grimwalker regardless of whether the ortet is Belos or Philip, assuming that they are two different people...

...however, I don't believe that Belos is a grimwalker, nor do I believe that he's Philip. At this point, I think either option would be too obvious, and at the same time I don't think either of them make much sense. He doesn't have the same eyes detailed in the book, taking some credibility from the grimwalker theory. Likewise, his pointed ears and differing nose shape suggest that he is neither Philip nor fully human.

There could be some explanation for the latter discrepancies--perhaps his dealings with magic and prolonged life could have altered his appearance--but my theory is that Belos is Philip's son, or at least a descendant.

I think that there could be some credibility to the "wild magic destroyed our family" story, but not in the way that Belos implies to Hunter. I suspect that Philip died from an incident involving wild magic, or at least came to a bad end due to his involvement with wild magic. Likewise, it appears that Belos is also suffering from an affliction caused by magic.

Alternatively: Luz is from Connecticut and that's likely where Philip initially came through the portal. Connecticut was one of the 13 original colonies of the United States. This may be a little grim, but imagine how colonists in the 1600s would react to a man who has been presumed missing or dead for years suddenly reappearing, claiming that he'd been transported to a world full of witches and demons and essentially used witchcraft to return home...yeah, that wouldn't blow over well.

So, Belos could be planning to take revenge on humanity to avenge his father's death? Just assuming based on this long string of other assumptions.

It would explain how Belos has seen the human realm without claiming to have lived there or come from there. If Philip had really settled down in Bonesborough and started a family in the time that it took him to finish the portal, I doubt he would have gone through without sharing it with them.

It would also explain why he has pointed ears that still look distinctly human: his mother was a witch and his father was a human.

And to loop it back to the original topic: I think there are two possible situations for who the "ortet" could be: either Belos is using the bones of Philip Wittebane or, I think more likely, Belos is using his own bones. I say this is more likely because Hunter looks so much like Belos, but if Philip is Belos' father then it's possible that they also look very much alike.

I also have to wonder if Hunter is not actually the first grimwalker Belos has made. Given how old Belos would have to be for any of this to make sense (about 300-400 years), what if grimwalkers act kind of like horcruxes? They give the ortet special power, including a prolonged life, but there are physical consequences. It alters their appearance over time and makes them less stable, both mentally and physically. The more grimwalkers the ortet makes, the faster or more intense the affliction becomes. In his outburst in Hunting Palisman, his body literally appears to turn to mud, and his silhouette became a horrific creature with horns.

The way he eats palismen to keep his affliction under control, plus the woodlike appearance of his skin, PLUS the fact that palistrom wood is used to create a grimwalker makes me think that his connection to the grimwalker is turning him into a tree. Which has the even more disturbing implication that palistrom trees used to be people and that's where palismen get their souls from, but this post is long enough as it is, so I'll stop here.

This is just a lot of speculation, but basically my theory is that Hunter is a grimwalker made by--and from--Belos, who is also Philip Wittebane's son, and his end goal is to take revenge on both the human and demon realms. I think going the "cruelty of mankind" route would be fairly poignant for a story like this, since Luz was a social outcast before she came to the Boiling Isles. Honestly, though, I'm still on the fence about all of this. I don't want to commit to any of it because the show can still throw a big curveball at us.

#the owl house #toh spoilers #emperor belos #toh hunter #philip wittebane #toh theories #oh my god this was a lot #I was gonna post this days ago but I suddenly lost all motivation to do anything lol #if there's any part of this that I would commit to it'd be that hunter is the current grimwalker and belos is the ortet #long post

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twdmusicboxmystery · 3 years

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TWD 11x07: Promises Broken - Analysis

How did everyone like episode 11x07? This is going to be pretty short and sweet today. Right off the bat, I have less to say about this episode that I did about last week's. I've also seen episode 8 already, and it's phenomenal. I’ll have a lot more to say about next week’s as well. 11x07 is one of those episodes that sort of transitions between big events. They are still definitely some interesting developments that I’ll talk about. But not as much detail to go into.

***As always, spoilers abound below for 11x07. Don’t read until you’ve watched!***

There were two major Beth callbacks that really grabbed my attention. I'll talk about both of them and then briefly about what happens at the Commonwealth. Tomorrow I’ll do Details as usual and honestly the rest the week may be Asks. Not only because I don't have much time this week to get new posts written, but also because the Asks are really building up in my inbox and I need to get them all answered.

First major Beth saw tie-in I saw:

We learned more about Elijah in this episode. I no longer worry about him being a plant or mole of any kind. He does seem to be disappearing at random times, but we learned in this episode that his sister was killed in the attack by the reapers (actually, we already knew that), but more specifically that she's a walker somewhere. He wasn't able to put her down.

In the opening scene, a teenage girl walker moves toward the group and Maggie kills her. She says that this young woman was Elijah's sister's best friend. We learn that Elijah’s sister is still out there somewhere.

If that's not a huge tie to Beth and what we believe happened during the missing 17 days, I don't know what is.

Later in the episode, as Maggie and Elijah are leading the walker horde toward Meridian, he looks over and sees his sister as a walker. It was somewhat reminiscent of Michonne in 4B. But mostly, it just screamed Beth to me.

Obviously, in this case, Elijah was able to find his sister and she truly is deceased. It was difficult because when he sees her, they are leading the walker horde, and therefore he couldn't actually put her down. If he had, it would've gotten the attention of the rest of the walkers and he and Maggie probably would've been eaten. But he started to cry, and Maggie held his hand. I thought it was very sweet and poignant. But I also couldn't help but think that Maggie is so very sympathetic toward him because she knows EXACTLY how he feels.

Second major Beth callback:

This one came through Daryl and Leah's storyline. They find a young family, who Pope tells them to kill. But Leah has an intense emotional reaction, especially when she sees the couple's son, who looks like he's probably not too many years older than Matthew was. She defies Pope’s order and doesn't kill the family. Instead, she tells the father and son to run away. The mother, who was badly hurt, and probably wouldn't have survived anyway, asks Leah to kill her. But Leah, still upset, can't do it. So, Daryl does it for her.

He walks up to retrieve his arrow and covers the woman with a blanket. This was a direct call back to the Rich Bitch walker in Still, who he covered the blue tarp to appease Beth. Remember that after Lenny was killed by the Claimers, he also almost covered him with the tarp, but then ended up not.

In this scene with Leah, Daryl then turns around and says, "Leah, I gotta tell you something." Obviously, he was going to tell her everything and try to bring her in on his plan. He doesn't end up doing it because just then Pope radios and tells them to get back to camp. (I assume that's because they see Maggie’s walker horde coming.)

I can't help but think that everything about Leah reminded Daryl of Beth in this scene. She still wearing her blonde ponytail, she got emotional about the situation and had sympathy for the family. The fact that she reminded him so much of Beth in that moment is probably why he covered the deceased woman. It was an almost unconscious action because he was thinking of Beth. And that is why he decided to trust Leah, even though he didn't actually do it.

You might say that we have a bit of a Darth Vader situation going on here. Daryl is trying to figure out whether there is still good in Leah and whether he can trust her. That's why he's always watching her interactions with Pope so closely. He sort of wants to turn her to the good side, or TF’s side. And no, I don't think it's because of anything romantic. AK has said that's over with. But that doesn't mean Leah can't be helpful to him in making sure that Maggie and the rest of the group survive.

So, what this is probably going to come down to is Daryl finally showing Leah his hand, and then it will depend on whether helps him save Maggie and the others or turns on him and outs him to Pope. MSF next week. Just sayin’. ;D

Let's talk briefly about the Commonwealth.

We had this really weird sequence where Eugene and Stephonie are clearing walkers, but they see two younger people walk by who are being a little bit snotty about being near where walkers are.

Later, they see these two kissing under the pavilion, with walkers coming up behind them. Eugene runs out and saves them from the walkers. Another one shows up while Eugene is arguing that the young man, who turns out to be a total tool. Stephonie kills that walker, spraying the young guy’s girlfriend with blood.

While watching, I couldn’t figure out where this was leading. It was just so bizarre. Yes, Eugene and Stephani saved them from walkers, and yes, they were being jerks about it, but why would there be walkers near them while they were on a date anyway? Why did Mercer lead them to a place with walkers nearby and then leave them alone? I just wasn't quite putting it all together.

We then learned that this young man is Pamela Milton’s son. That's why he so entitled, because his mother runs the community, so he thinks the world owes him something. Because Eugene hit him, poor Eugene finds himself in this in a cell again.

I didn't really put together what was going on until Hornsby showed up and said, "Now the price is higher. We need to know the name of your town and how to get there."

So, yeah. It was all a set up. They're wanted Eugene to do something else they could punish him for because they're trying to get the name of his settlement. It's no different than what they were trying to do in the interrogation. So, these people are pretty diabolical. They realized the interrogation wasn't working. Eugene's group wasn't intimidated by them and they knew they would get answers that way. So, they set up first the radio and then the situation with Pamela Milton’s son in order to try and force Eugene to give them the name of the name and location of Alexandria.

At the end of the episode, it sounds like Eugene is thinking about caving, but we don't know whether he did or not in this episode.

Another thing of interest is that the real Stephanie who Eugene talked to on the radio seems to be Pamela Milton's receptionist. She and Yumiko did have some interaction in this episode.

Beyond that, we also did have a really interesting conversation between Maggie and Negan. Though there wasn’t much that was TD about it, I really did enjoy that scene.

I also still think they’re setting up something with Father Gabriel, but I’m still at a loss as to what it is.

That's it for today. Like I said, short and sweet. I'll be back with details and any developments from the talking dead tomorrow. How did everyone like this episode?

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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backdraft-bimbo · 3 years

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The musical genius of Castiel’s confession (15x18 “Despair”)

Let’s talk about the background music during Cas’ monologue; something I haven’t seen a single person in this vast fandom mention, so lemme just let y’all in on some genius moves Supernatural made with this scene. In other words: reason number 194850 of why it’s my absolute favorite. Here we go.

The scene starts off with obvious tension, since Billie is trying to kill them and there looks to be no way of escape. Supernatural and a variety of other mainstream shows typically use the string section–violins, cellos, bass, et cetera–when needing to emphasize stress or anxiety. It didn’t really catch my attention at the beginning since it seemed like the generic Supernatural horror soundtrack.

But then, Cas finds the figurative light in the tunnel–their hope in a seemingly hopeless situation. Right as he says, “There’s one thing strong enough to stop her”, the string bass cuts out and leaves only violins, which slide into a falling cluster chord and allow a softer, less overwhelming bass to join in. They also used a bit of piano/some kind of mallet instrument to soften the mood even further. Since music tells you a lot about a scene even before the characters say anything, that’s kind of when I was like, Okay this is happening.

As Cas begins talking about how Dean sees himself, the orchestral sounds disappear and the piano takes over. I don’t know if it’s just me, but Supernatural seems to only on seldom occasions use piano. And even rarer occasions use piano alone; it’s almost always accompanied by strings. Just rewatch some of the emotional scenes in the past (Sam’s first death, Cas’ funeral, the Destiel hospital talk) and you’ll notice how Supernatural usually leans toward the clarinet, oboe, and typical orchestral sounds. Sometimes they use no music at all, like in the s5 finale where there was only the howling wind.

Anyway, I could go line by line on Cas’ monologue and how excellently the music follows Misha and Jensen’s acting and the emotions playing out, but I’m just gonna highlight my favorite parts below the cut.

“I know how you see yourself, Dean.” As Castiel gets closer to his eventual confession, the most noticeable tone shift starts right here. Clarinets and strings fade out, and the piano arpeggios fade in. There are some noticeable major to minor shifts that kind of caught me off guard because Supernatural rarely goes with that kind of style, at least not in my memory.

But my absolute favorite part is when the camera cuts to Dean’s face as the piano climbs higher and higher with this gorgeous, romantic tone, right when Cas says in his most genuine voice: “It’s not.” Nothing else in 15x18 could compare to those few seconds of Superior Composition. It wasn’t just the music choice; it was a combination of the excellent acting, how Misha delivered his lines, and the cut to Dean’s lain-bare gaze.

And the piano just seriously blew me away in this scene. Piano is, quite frankly, the most romantic instrument. I will defend that statement till I die, and I’m certain that its inclusion was not unintentional. It clued me in that something was different about this specific interaction between the characters of Cas and Dean. Like, come on. Just listen to it.

But even if you completely disregard the music, the message doesn’t come across any less poignant. Context slammed into me with the force of a semi-truck. This man, Dean, has never heard anyone outright deny his faults in favor of his goodness just like that. You can feel the vulnerability in Dean’s eyes, how utterly lost he looks, as Cas tells him all these things that he needs to hear. And man, oh man, that single, fleeting moment redeemed the rest of that entire episode for me.

Dean hasn’t been on the top of most folks’ Favorite Characters lists for this season. He’s falling apart, hurting those he loves, and going through a very long identity crisis arc. But you gotta take into account that this entire season has been building up the fact that Dean has a temper–this bleeding, aching rage he can’t control, that hurts everyone in its path. And it’s destroying Dean himself too. Right up until this moment.

“And everyone who knows you, sees it.” Back to the musicality–when Cas finishes the first portion of his speech, it ends on a soft, simple chord. There’s no unnecessary additional instruments–it’s just this assuring, beautiful piano chord that accompanies Cas’ declaration that Dean is a better person than he gives himself credit for.

Oh, and the piano doesn’t stop there. It just increases in intensity, strings getting louder, building up behind it, until Cas reaches his next declaration: “You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know.” And the piano just gets softer and higher after he says this, gone solo again. There’s this ingenious, continuous play of building up musical intensity with the script until it reaches a climax, cutting back the instruments until only one sound remains, and then restarting it all over again to make the viewer feel something.

And right after Dean says, “Why does this sound like a goodbye?”, a mournful sounding cello kicks in, and I don’t know how anyone could make a more romantic soundtrack. It’s so good. I swear the more I watch this scene the more I fall in love with it.

Finally, Cas speaks his deepest truth, an “I love you” to Dean, and the cello continues until he tells Dean goodbye. Thus returns the Sad Supernatural Piano that I’m seriously becoming attached to, and it shifts into orchestral, ending on this tragic, burden-heavy note as Dean tries to comprehend all that Cas has told him.

I’m personally hoping for more of this kind of composition in the last two episodes since it worked so well with our characters in this episode. (Destiel smooch, pretty please?)

What did y’all think of the music? Personally, I loved it. Tell me what you think.

#supernatural #music #destiel #dean winchester #meta #analysis #15x18 #castiel #despair #confession #destiel is canon #november 5

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wardens-stew · 3 years

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my review of The Mask Falling - an ode to Arcturus and Paige

For me, the soul of this series has always been the relationship between Paige and Arcturus. It’s apt that this book, the exact middle of the series and as @sshannonauthor describes it, its heart, spends so much time with this pair. The intensity and uniqueness of their bond really emerges as the shining jewel of this series.

It’s clear that Samantha Shannon was intentional about putting Arcturus and Paige on equal footing for the first time in The Mask Falling. She manages the power dynamic between them with such attention and nuance, reversing their roles often and fluidly escaping gender roles. The protector role comes naturally to Arcturus, given his immortal strength and anxiety about losing Paige (it’s even part of the etymology of their names), but for much of The Mask Falling he is her silent shadow, trailing being her and supporting her quietly. They negotiate their differences with refreshing candor and in good faith, their arguments free from ego. “My fear is not your cage,” Arcturus tells her. “I will never ask you to mold yourself to it.” His affection for her is empowering, supportive, never constrictive or diminishing. Paige herself is markedly independent, doing the bulk of her fighting and plotting on her own. When she does seek support from Arcturus, there is no sense of her own strength being diminished, and as often as he rescues her, she turns around and rescues him just as easily.

Indeed, while Arcturus is the immortal god, it is Paige’s power that really shines in this book. Her incredible ingenuity and strength is on full display, getting her out of certain-death scenarios at such a gripping pace I had to cover the pages with my hands to avoid glancing ahead. She couples her incredible powers with extraordinary mental fortitude and an acute conscience; each of her escapades has a satisfying emotional resonance that enlivens her broader quest. Whereas many YA heroines possessed of supernatural power oscillate between immobilizing moral anxiety and moral bankruptcy, Paige tempers her impulsiveness with reason (most of the time) and a powerful motive for justice. It’s clear that she has yet to access the full extent of her abilities, and I’m eager to see what roles she’ll play in the fight to take down Scion.

While previous installments show Arcturus/Warden on various levels of guardedness, The Mask Falling gives us time and space in excess to see his true character. I was struck by his compassion, his hopefulness despite all that he has endured. He is often reassuring and comforting Paige, his optimism clear-eyed and measured. The contrast is especially stark with his persona in The Bone Season, where he appears cold and calculating, morally gray at best. In this book, he is almost unbearably kind, devastatingly sweet and thoughtful. As Paige remarks, “there was nothing terrible before me now.” The almost unimaginable beauty of his character is achieved with such a soft touch; the books are not about Arcturus being the the epitome of goodness - he simply is.

A central thread of tension of this book follows Paige and Arcturus negotiating their relationship and coming to terms with their mutual attraction. Samantha Shannon manages this tension beautifully, carrying it forward constantly with poignant moments of intimacy interspersed with Paige’s honest internal dialogue. The smallest interactions and gestures between them felt so heightened. There are all the classic scenes - getting drunk and saying too much, jealousy spirals about past relationships, almost-kiss scenes interrupted, near-death confessions - all building up to a beautiful and satisfying climax.

Samantha Shannon writes intimacy incredibly well. The love scenes feel specific to the characters, managing to be both meaningful and erotic. Romances between an immortal man and a mortal woman in particular tend to translate the man’s primal instincts and extreme physical strength into a voracious sexual appetite that leaves little room for gentleness and consideration. Arcturus really breaks the mold in this respect. He is so reverent, so sincere, so generous with Paige in a way few male characters with female partners approximate. Rather than relying on an imbalance of power in order to convey eroticism, the sexiness of Arcturus and Paige’s dynamic derives from the equality of their relationship. It’s so difficult to create a heterosexual romance unsullied by patriarchy, and Samantha Shannon gets close to that here.

I wonder if it is Arcturus’ immortal nature that makes him such a uniquely engaging character. Samantha Shannon really commits to that aspect of him - he’s not just a hot teenager. The best word I can think of to describe him is mature. He is so beyond the petty concerns of YA love interests, so ego-less and self-reliant. One of my favorite ways he diverges from human men - and traditional male love interests - is his lack of fixation on Paige’s physical appearance. This book has several of the classic moments that would typically elicit a remark or a look from the love interest on the heroine’s appearance, often framed as a cute romantic moment. Yet when Paige dresses up, or dyes her hair - even when she asks him outright - he never comments on the way she looks. “A human might have whispered in my ear, told me I was beautiful or perfect, but not him.” I love that. I’ve never found that lustful, almost predatory demeanor in male love interests nearly as sexy as the author would like it to be, and it always rubs me the wrong way when the man telling the woman she’s beautiful is framed as the epitome of romance. It strikes me as a very lazy way to convey attraction, for one thing, and it reeks of benevolent sexism. Arcturus never plays into those supposedly romantic tropes of disparaging other women in favor of the heroine or being selectively kind. His love for Paige is so pure.

I continue to be impressed by the sheer scale of worldbuilding in this series. Many books attempt to create fictional tyrannical governments, but few succeed in building one as convincing and elaborate as Scion. The Mask Falling peels back even more layers of this complex world, bringing to fruition seeds planted in the very first book. Although the basic plot leans on some familiar tropes, Samantha Shannon always manages to add an additional twist of the screw. The complexity of this series is truly extraordinary, drawing on etymology and mythology, dropping mysteries and complicating loyalties with incredible dexterity.

SPOILERS!!!!! --> I am still struggling with Arcturus’s possession and Paige’s failure to connect the dots and realize the reality of his situation. I see Samantha Shannon has pointed out on Twitter that Paige’s trauma and illness may have affected her judgment and decision-making. She says, “There's a particular scene where Paige reacts to an event in a way that is so deeply rooted in her PTSD and past experiences.” (I assume this is the scene she’s referring to.) I think that’s fair - Paige has been so inundated with the Rephaite aversion to humans that it’s almost as if she only needed one piece of evidence to confirm her doubts and destroy her trust in Arcturus. And it’s not as if she just takes it at face value, either - she does question him and try to convince him otherwise. But I still can’t help feeling that it’s a stretch. The Mask Falling makes Arcturus’ character so clear that the prospect that he would be loyal to Nashira the whole time is just ludicrous. Not to mention the fact that Paige somehow overlooked the obvious signs that he was being possessed. His eyes were such a dead giveaway - Paige had already seen that same thing happen when she possessed him! And when he moved to strike her and then suddenly stopped and his eyes flared - come on! That’s a classic mind-control trope. Paige is usually so perceptive, and they had built such a strong foundation… it feels unrealistic that she wouldn’t have connected the dots just because she hadn’t thought there could be another dreamwalker.

If I had to find fault with this book, and it is difficult, I would say that it leans a little too heavily on some YA dystopian fantasy tropes towards the end - the mind-controlled love interest, for example, instantly made me think of Divergent, The Hunger Games, The Mortal Instruments, etc. Likewise, the forced memory loss is a fairly common fantasy trope that tends to be really frustrating to read. I have faith that Samantha Shannon will keep it from sliding into those tropes, and of course there remains so much mystery still to be untangled from those final 100 pages. /END SPOILERS :)

This was the kind of book that captivated me immediately, left me lying awake at night and had me eating energy bars for dinner so I could keep reading. It was such a visceral, immersive experience, the kind where returning to the physical reality is almost physically disorienting. It’s been two days since I finished it and I’m still clinging to that fictional world, wishing I didn’t have to leave. Books like these are rare for me, and I’m still marveling at the miracle of finding that book that in Arcturus’ words, exists for everyone: “a book that will sing to them.”

#the mask falling #the bone season #arcturus and paige #warden and paige #the mask falling spoilers #spoilers #review #otp #Samantha Shannon

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norahastuff · 3 years

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Bucklemming are the ones who wrote Cas using emojis!

Yeah, they nailed it with that one.

Unpopular opinion ahead warning!

I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but I genuinely think Bucklemming have been writing Cas really well since s13. I mean don’t get me wrong, their episodes are disjointed as fuck, the pacing’s usually really jarring and the excessive exposition drives me up the wall. They don’t seem to know the meaning of show don’t tell - see the weird ass scene where Sam and Dean, reveal their big plan to Chuck in 15x19 - but I do think they’ve given us some good Cas content.

For instance:

13x07 - Cas getting to be bitchy and condescending to Lucifer and just generally getting to make fun of him and act superior. Dean being really worried about him and able to tell that something’s wrong because Cas is being overly affectionate over the phone. This is also the episode where Ketch pretends to be his own evil twin and Dean punches him in the face, which yes, is really stupid, but it’s so ridiculous it swings right back around to being hilarious and I’m obsessed with it.

13x13 - Kind of a forgettable episode and I hate all the Lucifer stuff but Cas is just so done with everyone and he gets to do the flippy angel blade thing and knock Ketch out which is pretty much the content I’m here for.

13x18 - Nothing major for Cas here, but he’s once again pissy about Ketch and completely done with everybody, which, I’m easy, that’s pretty much all I need.

13x22 - Honestly there was some amazing Cas stuff in this episode. He got to meet an AU version of himself that was so completely broken from years of torture because he’d never met Dean and had never been able to fully rebel. I mean this exchange in particular:

AU Cas: Don’t think that you are better than me. Well, we are the same.

Our Cas: Yes. We are. (Stabs him.)

Cas isn’t surprised in the least about what he became in a world without Dean, and it’s really satisfying to see Cas have his choices validated and to see him be good with where he’s at in his life. I mean they even have the whole juxtaposition of AU Cas torturing Charlie on heaven's orders and our Cas torturing someone on Dean's. It's still Cas, it's just his allegiance and what he's fighting for is different.

Unfortunately this all becomes much less poignant because Misha decided to do that weird ass German accent for AU Cas, (love you dude, but no) but the writing for him in that episode is pretty good. Plus he gets to say he vastly prefers humans to angels, which is always nice to hear.

14x02 - This episode is full of excellent Cas content. He parents Jack, gives him a monologue about how he found self worth when he was a human, talks to him about Kelly and just generally coaches him on being human.

He also gets to talk about vessels and his feelings about the whole Jimmy thing. Plus he dunks on angels again, is the smartest person in the room and is very clear that his priority is always Dean.

14x07 - My favourite thing is Cas getting to act superior and condescending towards people he can't stand and it’s there in spades in this episode because this is where Cas meets Sergei. He hates him so much and its hilarious. There’s also a long shot of Cas failing to look dignified when sitting on a pouffe. Oh and he dunks on Ketch again when he finds out Sergei and Ketch are buds.

14x12 - Cas is annoyed as fuck with Dean about his whole “lock myself in a box and throw it to the bottom of the ocean” plan so he dresses up as a doctor and has a ridiculously intense conversation with Dean that seems like it could lead pretty much anywhere before they get interrupting moose’d.

14x19 - There’s some good Cas/other angels stuff in here, just further cementing that heaven is very clearly not his home anymore. Also the Cas and Jack stuff is good too.

15x02 - Holy shit, I love this one. That whole conversation that Cas and Dean have about how Chuck has been manipulating them but Cas refuses to accept their decisions haven’t been their own because he knows what free will is and he’s fought and given up everything for it, is one of my favourite scenes in the entire show. That whole scene is just such good characterisation, for Dean yes, but especially for Cas, because he has such a complicated relationship with destiny and grand plans, and he, more than anyone, knows what it truly means to free because of how hard he’s had to fight for it. And you know:

“Dean you asked what about all this is real. We are.”

That’s a banger of a line, if I’ve heard one.

15x08 - Dean and Cas go to hell and get couple’s therapy from Rowena, actually their whole dynamic in this ep is very well done, what with the whole “I can’t look at you but I can’t be away from you either” thing they’ve got going on. There’s also some really good Cas and Michael stuff and he actually says “You had an entire oak tree shoved up your ass” so yeah.

15x13 - Cas going to the Empty, he’s once again just done with everyone, especially Dean and I love it. Plus there’s the Dean and Cas marriage symbolism in that church, I mean they have to do some really contrived storytelling just to have Dean and Cas stand at that altar together.

15x19 - Yeah this episode is clunky af, but Cas’ importance is repeatedly emphasised. There’s that cut scene where Jack prays to him, Michael expressing condolences to Dean about Cas’ death (also cut I know but they still wrote it), Dean yelling at Chuck to bring Cas back, the whole Lucifer pretending to be Cas thing(he impersonates people’s dead lovers when he’s asking them to let him in) and finally the big moment at the end where Dean internalises Cas’ big speech in 15x18, and decides to see himself as Cas did and be the man Cas loved and died for. 15x19 is too much of a mess for me to call it a good ep, but that scene was really satisfying.

So yeah, there’s plenty of stupid in BL episodes and I found all the Lucifer and Nick stuff really tedious but at a certain point they did get kind of good at writing Cas, his characterisation is pretty consistent throughout their episodes in the Dabb era which I don’t really think was the case back in the Carver seasons. Guess they at least learned something.

(10x21 is still some of the worst writing in the entire show though.)

#asks #my spn thoughts #long post for ts

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destroyyourbinder · 4 years

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Unriddling the Sphinx: Autism & the Magnetism of Gender Transition

When people note that "trans children" tend to have autistic traits and that children with an autism diagnosis (particularly natal girls, but also boys) are massively overrepresented in the population that is referred to assessment and treatment for gender dysphoria, many trans people's (and allies') response is that it is a kind of dehumanization and denial of agency to claim that autistic people cannot be transgender, do not have the right to seek gender transition, or that they may be vulnerable to being exploited by the transgender healthcare system. Most recently, this claim has come up again with regards to a recent piece by Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling, where among many other things she notes the enormous increase in child referrals to gender clinics, including a disproportionate number of autistic children, to explain her reticence to endorse the political stances of modern transgender movements.

This is my response as an autistic woman, who was once an autistic child, who is a lesbian with experiences of gender dysphoria and who once wanted to transition to male.

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Recognizing our vulnerability to social predation and to cultural systems that we do not understand because they were not made for us is not offensive. As autistic people, it is key to claiming our autonomy as a particular kind of disabled person. We often do not recognize our limitations in reference to greater social systems not because we are "too stupid" (i.e. cognitively or intellectually limited) but because we have different value systems than neurotypical people and hierarchical institutions built for their benefit. Autism is a pervasive developmental disability, and it is a way of being. It is not merely being a "regular person" minus various clinically defined psychological capacities or skills. It is a difference across all domains of life, and as a disability that causes differences in our social and sensory perception it is also a disability that causes differences in what we want and what we care about. Both those who exhibit condescending "concern" for autistic people and those people who naively defend our right to do whatever we see fit miss this component of being autistic. It is not that we are merely vulnerable because we are missing parts of our decision-making or social skills apparatus. It is not that we are merely being unfairly denied what we want to do, and our autism is immaterial, just some excuse for the denial.

It's that we aren't recognized as having wants, only "special needs". It's that we aren't given the skills to know what it is that we want, or that it might be different from those around us. It's that we are never told how to get what we want in safe and healthy ways, or that there is even a potentially safe and healthy way to get it. It's that we are deemed automatically pathological and empty of internal experiences as autistic people. It's that we're not given any help on how to navigate our deep differences from others and how to navigate being deprived of social resources and networking in a way that doesn't tell us to just cover it up and deal with it. It's that most people who dedicate their lives to "helping" us do not care about any of these things, merely that we can be trained to act in a way that doesn't disrupt the lives of neurotypical people. Given this context, it is far more insulting to me to insist that having autonomy renders us somehow invulnerable to exploitation than to correctly perceive that we are in fact an intensely vulnerable people. By nature of our disability, we are always on the margins of social resources and social networks, and exercising our autonomy unfortunately often puts us even further outside social acceptability and social protection rather than somehow shielding us materially from the consequences of living a self-actualized autistic life. Few autistic people are prepared for this when they begin trying to make decisions "true to self" in adolescence.

I believe nearly every autistic person is traumatized from the consequences of living in this world and what others do to us. Clinicians do not usually recognize that autistic children and adults can be traumatized, that there is even anything there to traumatize. (Why else could they feel so comfortable shocking us, shackling us, or feeding us bleach?)

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I think because we are not neurotypical we often struggle to understand just why a neurotypical person would feel ok excluding us, or maybe even anyone. Many of us autistic people have little impulse to do such things, and if we do, we rarely have the social power to make someone that we've cut out of our lives unemployable, unable to access medical care, food, housing, and so on. But neurotypical institutions are set up, from top to bottom, to create hierarchies of value with extreme material difference between the top and bottom. They are set up to stratify the "worthy" people from "unworthy" people.

Autistic people are almost universally considered "unworthy" in these systems, and to the extent that we can curry favor from them we must consent to our exploitation: to entering into a transaction on neurotypical terms, where we can get some sort of worth through providing a "benefit" to this hierarchical resource system which is not made according to our value system or for us whatsoever. This is common to all marginalized people. But it is often particularly poignant to autistic people, who struggle to find community with any social group of human beings. There is no "elsewhere" for us, there is no "home". We are stuck, as they say, on the "wrong planet", and the spaceship was destroyed.

The idea that exercising our autonomy would protect us from this world rather than render us more vulnerable because we are refusing to transact correctly or refusing to provide a benefit is utterly absurd. Our autonomy is perfectly compatible with our continued social ostracization and exploitation. It usually coexists with our continued social ostracization and exploitation.

In social skills classes-- or just the wild, wild world-- you are not taught how to deal with the fact that everyone will hate you for being you. You are taught to be someone else. You are not taught about your native autonomy. You are taught about how to put your hands here or here, how to choose between actions that are condescendingly and ridiculously normal. You are not taught how to take responsibility in a way you understand, that is harmonious to your own values and others'. You are taught to hold yourself accountable for your abnormality.

So forgive me if I do not believe for one second that impersonal, well-funded medical systems that were built off of medically experimenting on intersex children and adults (the nightmares wreaked by John Money at Johns Hopkins) or psychologically experimenting on behaviorally aberrant children (UCLA, where behaviorist torturer of autistic children Ivan Lovaas tinkered with gender nonconforming children alongside conversion therapist George Rekers) have autistic people's self-defined well being in mind.

And forgive me if I do not think informed consent clinics have autistic people's self-defined well-being in mind when they're more interested in rubber stamping hormones while shielding themselves from legal liability than assisting autistic adolescents and adults, who have an intrinsically different way of understanding gendered social norms, navigate the enormous complexity of how to interface with the single most fundamental social fixation of the neurotypical world as someone who will always and automatically fail.

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I do not think most gender clinicians even have the first understanding of what it means to be autistic and what this does in and of itself to your understanding of gender and sexuality. What J.K. Rowling said in her piece-- a straightforward accounting of facts-- is far, far less insulting to me than what Diane Ehrensaft-- one of the premier "experts" in the United States on pediatric transgender cases-- published in a peer-reviewed journal on autism. In a 2018 letter to the editor reading remarkably like new-age material on Indigo Children, she writes that she likes to call autistic transgender children "Double Helix Rainbow Kids" and declares us "freed" from the restrictions of gender as "more creative" individuals. This article ends with an anecdote about an eight year old autistic female child with limited language use who begins speaking, making eye contact, and relating more appropriately with clinic staff after she is socially transitioned by her family. Ehrensaft muses, "“Could gender be an alleviator for the stressors of autism?”

She is not the only one to pontificate about the magical changes a gender transition brings on autistic children. Norman Spack (the first clinician in the US to use GnRH agonists on gender dysphoric children as puberty-suppressing drugs) claims in a coauthored, peer-reviewed 2012 paper (insults upon insults, in the Journal of Homosexuality) that in his clinical experience the symptoms of comorbid diagnoses--including "problems with social competence"-- "decrease and even disappear" with gender treatment. In the same paper, this passage appears:

Although the question of whether gender dysphoria is simply a symptom of an autism spectrum disorder has been raised by mental health clinicians in the field, we feel it is equally worth questioning the validity of an autism diagnosis among transgender youth, particularly of those diagnosed with Asperger’s disorder. Perhaps the social awkwardness and lack of peer relationships common among GID-Asperger’s patients is a result of a lifetime of feeling isolated and rejected; and maybe the unusual behavior patterns are simply a coping method for dealing with the anxiety and depression created from living in an “alien body,” as one patient described it.

Do autistic trans people-- who rightfully protest against mainstream autism organizations focusing on a "cure" for autism rather than respectful accommodations for our differences and medical needs-- know that very well-connected, very respected, and very powerful gender doctors are claiming that gender transition cures the symptoms of autism? Do autistic trans people-- who rightfully discuss the implications of denying that someone can both be autistic and hold a meaningful gender variant identity-- know that it is an active clinical debate as to whether or not their disability and all its struggles is "just" a result of somehow ending up in the "wrong body"?

If they do not, they should know that this is how doctors are perceiving the pervasive issues that the children in their care are having: not as the result of a life-long, stigmatized, but eminently livable disability, but as the result of a mystical gender failure that can be medically corrected. That essentially, the disability "goes away" so long as outsiders no longer perceive a problem with a child's conformity to gender norms. That either an autistic girl somehow is transfigured into a non-autistic child through transition, or more likely, an autistic girl's autistic behavior is unfitting for her as a girl but not for her as a boy. That the "proof" of pediatric transition's effectiveness and standard of an autistic child's happiness is how much the child wishes to participate in neurotypical society on neurotypical society's terms.

I cannot pretend that this isn't ludicrously disrespectful to autistic people, or that it isn't a total erasure of our experience as human beings. To these gender doctors, the fact that a girl might see the world in a different way and care about different things and thereby struggle in a world not made for her does not matter whatsoever, except maybe as a tokenistic "journey" she can go on alongside her wonderfully progressive and affirming doctors. What "autism" is for them is a particularly severe and inconvenient social adjustment problem which can be forcibly corrected through body modifications, should an autistic child or adult rightly note that they can't do gender right and this is causing problems for them. They are more interested-- like in a long history of abusive and even deadly "treatments" for autism-- in correcting the problem for them than for the autistic person. How convenient for neurotypical people both the gender incongruous behavior and the social noncompliance goes away once you medically modify a child to look like the other sex.

I cannot be anything but sick that "increased eye contact" is a sign an autistic child needed medical meddling in the intimate process of navigating and negotiating their sexual and gender development. I cannot trust that these doctors aren't missing enormous parts of their autistic patients' experiences, if this is what they are so gleeful to report as a positive transformation and their justification for disrupting and surveilling children's bodies. What do they think of autistic people and those who are gender non-conforming if they are so willing to believe that existing as a person with a stigmatized disability is actually just a misdiagnosis for the pseudoscientific condition of being a man in a woman's body, or vice versa?

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It takes many, many years and quite a bit of luck and support for most autistic people to fully understand and come to terms with how their autism affects them and sets them apart from both individual neurotypical people and neurotypical society at large. It takes years-- often far, far into adulthood, especially for those abused under a medical model or for those who went decades undiagnosed-- to understand the differences between social and non-social aspects of this disability.

It takes years to not resort to chalking up all of your own distress and difficulties to being a "retard".

I have not met an autistic woman yet who did not have extreme difficulty integrating her autistic differences in values with a broader sense of self that includes whatever version of herself she uses to navigate a world in which women's values are simultaneously invisible (since she has no right to determine them herself) and nitpicked to death (since it is important she complies).

In a world like this why would it not be difficult for autistic people to know when it is they are being fooled or exploited while participating in transgender communities or while seeking transgender health care? Autistic people-- especially those who are dependent on caregivers or health systems for basic care, as well as those who depend on the goodwill of their families, employers, or welfare benefit institutions to remain as independent as they can-- have to make continual compromises just to maintain enough acceptability to communicate with the outside world nonetheless do things like "make a friend", "go to the doctor", "find a job".

I do not think neurotypical people understand or care that when I speak or write it is always with a similar effort as with a second language. Language-- whether it is verbal or nonverbal, with all the extensive symbology of the neurotypical world-- does not ever get to be something other than "translation" for me. As someone with an Asperger's-profile of abilities who has studied the neurotypical world intensely for years, I have the opportunity to translate in a way that allows others to understand me at least some of the time. Many autistic people who are more affected live in the world which gives "autism" its name, where nobody cares to do the translation for us and we are left totally and utterly alone.

The 20th century philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein (who, perhaps not coincidentally, was likely autistic) was fixated on questions about the meaning of communication. About whether a language of one could make any sense, about what it would mean to speak about something hidden from everyone else or perhaps even ourselves. In a famous passage debated vociferously, he wrote, "If a lion could speak, we would not be able to understand him."

Many have resolved the question posed by this statement by claiming that for fuck's sake, a lion is a lion, and has nothing to say.

-----

Gender transition appealed to me because it was cloaked in the farcical notion that there was some version of me and my body that could finally speak directly. I never quite understood the whole Adam and Eve story as an autistic child-- just don't eat it!-- but if there truly were a serpent's apple for autistic folks it would consist of this promise: that there was a world where the glass and the fog would dissolve, that we weren't covered in a repulsive and bumbling slime made of our own desires to understand, that instead of our words and hands glancing off the skin of everyone around us we could do that magic everyone else could and hold someone's heart in our hands. I was fooled because like many struggling autistic people, I wanted the problem to be me. Because then it was fixable. I would let them take my only body (which was such a sensory drag) to convert me into one of these blessed transponders that normal people were, receiving and sending all these messages like shooting stars blazing through the unimpeded vacuum of space. Without my femaleness and without the Difficulties That Should Not Be Named, I could send whatever message I wanted to whoever I wanted and it would be received, I could be gregarious, important, sexually compelling; my will and autonomy wouldn't be stifled by 140 pounds of dumpy, itchy flesh with an overbite and slack hands.

When I imagined myself as a man I didn't imagine myself like most of the childhood boys I managed to ingratiate myself with, who lisped, repeated themselves, and tripped over their own shoes. I imagined myself as a musician who was absolutely magnetic, I imagined myself as a writer with a legacy, I imagined myself telling other guys they were stupid shits and they could fuck off. I imagined being able to hold onto a football without dropping it, being able to smoke weed without getting a migraine, being able to talk without squeaking or letting out a little drool.

I thought I would finally be a human being with no embarrassments and nothing that could get me bullied in the bathroom between class. I thought when I would say "no", other people would listen. I would enter whatever mystical world it is that Ehrensaft names, made of messages and meanings, where every twist of word and piece of clothing said something, connected by a fine filament back to that Necronomicon filled with the runes of social symbology. And it would make sense.

I would become a lion, not a house cat. And the lion would speak. And we would understand him.

-----

It is a neurotypical narrative that this is what transition can do for you, because it is what someone else's transition does for neurotypical people. A gender transition is magical because it decodes the lion. It unriddles the sphinx. The autistic person must be happier now, because the neurotypical person is happier now. (And who has an empathy deficit?)

But if I have learned to be afraid of anything as an autistic person it is not my own neuroticism and fixations, but those of the so-called "normal people". Forget double helix rainbows: being an autistic person is like your DNA is a converted school bus trundling through the world in spray-painted glory and the whole world has an HOA. I understand why autistic people who see themselves as transgender see "concern" as the busybody stupidity of the neurotypical world. They aren't wrong. But it exists alongside other mundane and brutal busybody stupidities, such as grant funding, progressive saviorism, and psychiatric god-complexes.

To understand and resist what the neurotypical world communicates to us about our worth is not to protest back to them in their own language. I am an autistic woman and like many other autistic women I am tired of not only making myself more palatable but translating my existence into something intelligible to outsiders, who are both men and the non-autistic. Radical feminists miss one of these; trans activists and allies miss the other. But I am irrevocably othered from both.

When you are autistic you are taught only one symbolic structure. It is not your own, but it is the only medium you will ever have to communicate with any complexity. More sinisterly, it becomes the only medium we have to communicate to ourselves, the only medium we can use to work around the silent and jumbled parts of our bodies and minds. Am I hungry? It is not always obvious. To ask the question I find myself translating, even when alone.

My fantasy about lions and men was that whatever world a lion lived in and whatever he had to say, he did not need to translate, and especially never to himself. When a lion says something he does not stop to ask if he means what he says or who is saying it. When a lion looks into the water hole and sees his own reflection, he does not need to reconcile anything. The lion does not need to speak to understand himself. A lion is made of teeth and blood and claws and the lion just does.

I do not use the symbolism of transgenderism to explain the little gaps and incongruities that are my problems with gender, with my sexed body, with sexuality. It is not only a language born of neurotypical neuroses and regulation, but it is always and forever fundamentally a translation. As an autistic woman I have spent my whole life avoiding these dual facts, through both my time thinking of myself as trans and while trying to understand this whole thing afterwards: I am my body and I am not my body. Because I speak, but I do not understand. Because I understand, but I do not speak.

I will, unavoidably, always have to translate to speak and understand. But my autonomy requires that at bottom I must respect the native communication of my own body and mind. I refuse to use force or coercion to get it to talk, to interrupt its silence, to confabulate stories on its behalf, to speak for it using assumptions it cannot confirm or deny. I have to make peace with the fact that sometimes the blanks of my body or the redacted corners of my mind will say nothing. I have to make peace with the fact that translation is always inaccurate, that something is always beyond that constellation of symbols and words. The autistic body and the autistic mind have their own boundaries, and I refuse to believe that exercising my autonomy requires breaking them.

I do not know if J.K. Rowling knows this. I hope you do.

#writings #autism #detransition #reidentifying

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mapleandgingeroatmeal · 3 years

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CR2E76-Refjorged

HOLY SHIT THIS EPISODE HAD EVERYTHING. WHERE DO I EVEN START?? This is gonna be a long one for sure.

The spontaneous Mead Pong game was so fun. I love how they all just went for that, and Caleb getting a perfect shot only when nobody was watching? Priceless.

They haven’t really done a heist w/ Caduceus. have they? Unless you count boarding that one ship, but I don’t think you can since that wasn’t a stealth thing. It’s weird, but that detail felt like almost a mark of how far the Nein have come already

I’m sure people have written a lot about this (I’d love meta recs if anyone has ‘em), but that makes me think about what may have changed about the m9′s path if Molly had stayed alive. Clay has been such a huge force in pushing the nein to do good in the world, and although he has plenty of his own issues, I think the fact that he believes in everyone’s ability to be good people has really had a huge impact. This may be a Hot Take, maybe I’ll regret this cause idk what Molly fans are like, but I really don’t think the group would have made nearly as much moral and emotional progress w out Caduceus. They would probably be at least a lot closer to crossing over that line into Bad People.

THE BREAD. This is another famous joke that I new existed, but had no context or knowledge for. I was so excited when I heard it come up! Caleb and polymorph is such a delightful combo. The dumb brain really lets him escape his misery I think, and he had such a gleeful face and relaxed posture for that whole scene.

“Last time we did this, you put a sword to my throat”. Whatta callback! Despite how much everything has changed, Fjord and Caleb still have this interesting intensity to their relationship. The moment when they start a mysterious blood ritual and Caleb’s accent confrontation come to mind. I hope we get more in the future about how these two interact in a more casual setting, tbh, because at this point I have a hard time pinning down their dynamic. The trust is definitely there now, and all the Nein obviously love each other, but in many ways it feels almost delicate? Like in the scene from this ep, I think both of them probably reflect on that day thinking they were in the right, even if they’ve moved on. Interesting stuff!

The reactions when Nott murdered that guard were so priceless. Little moments like that are kinda sobering reminders of how broken she is. Since probably the moment that Veth killed that Goblin leader with a vile of acid, she’s led a life that seems to have been very much kill-or-be-killed. Empire people aren’t taught to see Goblins as much more than kill-on-sight monsters, and in a self-defense situation Nott is so small that she would really have only one chance before getting overpowered. It’s upsetting and definitely bad, but I think it makes a lot of sense that her first instinct when panicked is to go for the throat.

Caduceus is truly such a dummy and I love him for it. The man knows two things: Death and People. Nothing else. Strategy? Never heard of her. High-stakes stealth mission with an important decision to make? “it’s always nice to see my friends :)”.

Whats in the book they stole! We didn’t find out for the entire episode if I’m not mistaken! Caleb just gave to Fjord with some cryptic comments! Wtf kind of book isn’t useful/ interesting to Caleb? This is going to drive me insane.

The pack-rat elf lady wearing Reani’s crown finally was v sweet. She was a character that Matt seemed to hint at a lot of depth for. I wonder if we’ll ever get back to Uthadorn? I’d like to see her again

The dusts are also a bunch of npcs that I kinda wish we’d gotten more time with! The way that Matt had the whole family and their personalities mapped out makes me feel like there was a lot that didn’t get explored there. Clay has a tendency to minimize his own priorities and as much as it’s a neat character choice, I wish it didn’t mean that we see less of the neat stuff around his arc!

Fjord’s dream sequence had me tearing up. Matt’s writing is just so emotionally intelligent and deep. The specification that the Wild Mother can ease the pain but the wound will always be there? That hit me so goddamn hard. I love this character.

If I think too much about what this sword-collecting arc means for Fjord I’m gonna start crying again. Here’s a guy that grew up unloved, with nobody that ever cared enough to give him anything. He was so recently convinced that the Nein only cared about him while he was useful. And what happens once he looses all utility to the group? They give him magic weapons, and circle around to protect him, and face down a fucking ancient white dragon, all just to get him a gift from the Wild Mother. What does that feel like to a man who’s never ever had a family before? Can he even really recognize the kind of devotion the m9 just displayed? I hope once he has a quiet moment he can do some reflection and appreciate how much he is just unconditionally supported now. I want him to understand that he is loved.

Beau and Reani! I did remember right! They are adorable and everyone’s reaction at the table was priceless. That moment had a neat meta-level feel to it w/ the addition of Mica as a guest character. I could tell she was feeling out if this was a role-play boundary or not, just like Reani was feeling out if Beau was interested. Beau going in for the kiss out of nowhere was also Marisha signaling “yes please bang my hot gay monk”. A perfect ending for a wonderful character!

Jester and Caduceus almost judgy convo was actually fascinating to me, because it kinda highlighted one of my favorite things about Beau in that she breaks the norms arounf sexualy agency that you usually see with female charecters. She’s an action movie protag, casually banging hot ladies and hiring sex workers, and she’s celebrated for it like you would celebrate that behavior in james bond! I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a female character that does that before.

I could talk about Caleb and Nott’s conversation here for fucking hours, and I think I’m gonna actually do a whole separate post about it so this doesn’t get too long. Why is every interaction they have just the most poignant beautiful incredible moment ever committed to film? What did the world do to deserve this? Nothing. We do not deserve them.

Fjord getting his powers back and celebrating and the callback to Nott turning into a tiny Fjord and Eldritch Blaaaaaaayyyst returning and being wrapped up in seaweed and awkwardly objectified by Jester and Caduceus big goofy grin and all of it was such a joyful, hopeful note to end on! More than ever the Nein are feeling like a family, with all the wonderful messy things that entails, and I couldn’t be happier about it. I’m going to go watch Nott and Caleb and cry again.

#critical role #cr2e76 #cr catch-up

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blackenedwhite97 · 3 years

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Trials ( An Erasermic x Reader Medieval AU Ch.9-10)

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

https://blackenedwhite97.tumblr.com/post/643722830321696769/trials-an-erasermic-x-reader-medieval-au

CHAPTER 9

Shouta wordlessly led you along the tree line until you reached a reasonably level path to the north. Hizashi was limping terribly and barely able to keep up with you, and as much as you hated to admit it, your had only just gotten your ability to move around freely on your own back a handful of days ago and your body wasn't ready to make such a long and furiously paced trek on foot. The three of you ran until the canopies ahead were lit up with morning light and fluttered about in shades of green and gold. You were about twenty or so feet from cresting upon a hill and your knees buckled under your weight and exhaustion.Your already bruised knees hit the ground and this time you were sure the fall tore through your trousers as you felt the familiar bite of skin on stone.

"Sho!" Hizashi called out, stumbling to catch up to you and help you stand. "Sho!"

You could hear Shouta's footsteps above you still trudging forward through the rough gravel. You had begun to hit the slated hills that bled into the mountains.

"Fuck." Hizashi huffed to himself before taking a breath. "Sho!"

This time his name rang out, it wasn't loud enough for any sort of adverse effect to take you other than the slight jump of such a sudden loud noise hitting your ears. It was just loud enough to echo through the surrounding trees, it was loud enough that any other person would have had to really yell to get it out where it looked as though Hizashi had done little more than spoken normally. Shouta tensed and turned around, and you realized he had been completely oblivious to your fall or Hizashi's attempts to call him. Shouta had a thin trail of now dried blood running down the side of his neck that stemmed from one of his ears.

"Sorry." Shouta gruffed as he backtracked. He wrapped a hand around your arm and hauled you onto your feet with a huff and eyed the top of the hill. "Think you can make it to the top, we can set up camp there?"

You steadied yourself and nodded, eyeing his damaged ear. He watched you for a moment before realizing what you were staring at and sucked in a frustrated breath.

'I'm fine." He whispered.

"I'm looking at it when we get up there." you grumbled, forcing your tired legs to carry you just a little further.

Shouta nodded reluctantly and turned to Hizashi as you powered forward, eventually needing to grab onto tall rocks and bushes for help. As you ascended up the hill you could hear the couple muttering to eachother.

"Sho," Hizashi sounded mortified. "your ears."

Shouta cleared his throat and tried to change the subject.

"Give me your arm." He gruffed.

"Sho-"

"I'm fine, Zash." Shouta snapped. "Arm. Please."

You crested the hill first to find a clearing that appeared to be recently used as a campsite. Two cool fire pits sat, covered in ash and soot, but cool and unused for a few days at least. There was a long log that was obviously been dragged in from the other side of the hill and set up as a long seating arrangement next to the pits, the top of it smoothed down into a flat edge. The three of you sat in the clearing for a few minutes completely silent, letting yourselves catch your breaths a stew in your misery. It wasn't until Hizashi tapped your leg to get your attention that you realized he'd been staring at you.

"How's your ears?" He asked, his worried emerald eyes looking up at you. "And your head?"

"F-fine." You blinked, taking a second to back sure you were telling the truth.

"Good." Hizashi looked over at Shouta, who was gingerly wiping the blood from his neck. "D-do you have more of the medicine and water?"

"Yeah, I have more of everything." You started rummaging through the bag you had thrown over your shoulder and handed Hizashi bandages and a water skin. "I'll need to make some disinfectant liquid to drop into his ear though, it'll take a little while."

"Right." Hizahsi nodded, solemnly.

He stood up and walked over to Shouta, grabbing him by the shoulders and sitting him down next to you on the log. It was clear that Shouta wasn't fond of being fussed over but after a rather poignant look from Hizashi he sat still and made no qualms about the fussing. Hizashi wet the bandages and gently blotted away the blood, pausing every so often to survey the damage. It was clear as day to you that he felt responsible for the injury, every movement he made to help Shouta felt like an act of penance.

"Wagon." Shouta suddenly mumbled. "We need a wagon."

"What you need is to rest." Hizashi scolded.

"What?" Shouta asked, louder than you guessed he was aware.

"You. Rest. Now." Hizashi shouted.

"I'm fi-" Shouta began.

"No." Hizashi grabbed Shouta's chin and manhandled his face so they were making eye contact. " No."

It was tense for a moment and you could tell by the look on Shouta's face that Hizashi was being much more intense than he usually was. Shouta blinked hard and then nodded his head the best he could while still caught in Hizashi's grasp. He slid down the log until he was sitting on the ground and leaning back against it and able to lean his head back so he was looking up at the sky. Shouta gave Hizashi a sidelong glance, something akin to puppy dog eyes, you realized as Hizashi rolled his. Hizashi reached forward and gently ran his hand over Shouta's face, closing his eyes as if he were a corpse. Shouta grinned but kept them closed and took steady breaths until you were sure he'd fallen asleep.

"Are you sure about your ears?" Hizashi asked finally, looking away from Shouta.

"Hm?" you looked up at him. "Yeah, Shouta covered my ears."

"Ah." Hizashi nodded to himself. "Idiot. No offense, I'm glad you're okay."

"Is this- his ears- is that what happened to those men?" You asked, staring at the bloodied rag in Hizashi's hand.

"No." He gulped. "Worse. I was yelling right at them, if Sho had been infront of me he'd be lucky if he still had any hearing at all."

"Oh." you swallowed hard. You knew that they were theoretically dangerous men, they had to be with how they described their work, but seeing it in practice made your hand shake. "How bad-"

"Can it get?" Hizashi finished. You nodded. "When I was a kid, my family was traveling from one town to the other. It was spring so a lot of nobles in the area were going to their country homes and the roads were more dangerous than usual. We got caught up in a group of bandits, they were-uh, violent. They hurt my dad...killed him actually, and I- I, uh, well, screamed."

Hizashi sniffed and looked directly at you, guilt swirling in his emerald eyes. "I didn't mean to, but I ruptured the bandit and his horse's organs. Hearts just completely pulverized. Brains filled with blood."

"You were a kid," You thought back to the night you were attacked in your cottage. "you were afraid."

"Yeah." Hizashi smiled sadly, his eyes wandering towards the trees.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes not really knowing what to do. You supposed a fire would be a good thing to make and maybe food would also be a god thing to get. You thought of a lot of things that might be a good thing to do but if you were honest you were at a loss for what to do next and you were spending most of your energy on trying not to think about how those men had attempted to burn you alive.

"Where do you think we could get a wagon." Hizashi broke the silence. "I wonder if i could bum one off of that caravan back near town."

You realized he was talking to himself more than he was really talking to you, but the sound of his voice filling in the silence was comforting. It meant you had to think less to distract yourself. He shifted next to you suddenly, his legs shooting out in an awkward splay. His shoulder bumped yours and he huffed, his hand flying to his ribs.

"Logs are not suitable seating." He grumbled. "Trees are hard and don't get less hard if you turn them the other way."

You couldn't help but laugh as he fidgeted uncomfortably like a busy little boy confined to a church pew for the duration of mass. He was obviously pleased with himself because he was grinning too. Eventually he decided to just stand up, rubbing his rear with both hands.

"Staying still, not my forte." He grumbled.

"You haven't." You smirked, watching him roll his eyes at the accusation.

"Not what I meant." He looked back towards the farm for a moment. "Sho said we needed a wagon and I think I might know where we can get one. Will you be okay on your own for a while? Sho's a light sleeper, he'll wake up if you nudge him."

"I- y-you're not in any condition to travel, Hizashi." You stammered, thinking about his wounded leg and more disastrously his broken ribs.

"I've had worse." He grinned at you and winked, he was going to be the death of you.

"No." you huffed, grabbing onto the back of his heavy travel tunic. "You're staying and resting."

"Y/n-"

"No." You pulled him back towards the log. "You're worse than him."

Hizashi slumped back into the log next to you with a pout. "Well, when you put it like that."

"Sleep." you scolded. "Now. You still have valerian running through you, it should be easy."

Hizashi slid down next to Shouta and reluctantly closed his eyes. For a few minutes it was silent, nothing but Shouta and Hizashi's even breaths and the chittering birds filing the clearing. Hizashi leaned over towards you, eyes still closed, and rested his head on the side of your thigh.

"Hey, Y/n?" Hizashi hummed, eyes still closed. "We'll be okay. As soon as we get back home, we'll all be okay."

"That's very optimistic of you." You mumbled, somewhat disinclined to disagree with him now that he was so close- touching you. You tried to shake the sentiment from your head, he was injured and stupid not cute and..attractive.

"Not really." Hizashi chortled. "There's a healer back home, she works miracles."

"Right now, miracles aside, you need sleep." You muttered, you hand instinctively finding its way to the top of his head. You tested out a slow, long stroke down the back of his skull, his head nestling deeper against your thigh. You kept that slow, calming pace for a while, eventually his torso going slack in with sleep against your leg. You gently repositioned him so he was leaning against Shouta, the two of them naturally readjusting so they fit into each other perfectly. A small pang of jealous tugged at your chest, it wasn't of either of them individually but rather of simply what they had. You felt that yearning, something you hadn't felt since you were young and just starting to look at other kids as more than playmates. You felt lonely, in the greater sense of the feeling. You had no one, not the farmer down the way, not his boy who was ever so polite, not the kind lady in the trinket stall ot the market, and not a man to hold you when the night winds blew cold. Even though they were there with you, seeing them together just reminded you that they were together before you, and they would be long after you.

You slumped down to the ground as well, shuffling away from them, feeling awkward being so close. You had no plans to sleep, in fact, quite the opposite, your plan was to keep watch. But your eyes began to droop and every blink brought a sweet moment of rest that turned into minutes of sleep at a time until eventually you were unable to fight it off any longer.

***

A loud crack startled you awake, and you lurched away from the log and into a sitting position.

"Sorry." Shouta was stooping over a fire pit, now glowing with flames and a caved in log, a small grin pulling at his lips. "Didn't mean to wake up our look out."

"Oh-Oh! Sorry!" You blinked. "I-I didn't mean to fall asleep, I just-"

"Was exhausted. It's alright, we're still alive." You could see now that Shouta was struggling with a pile of bloodied fur and a hand full of sharpened sticks. "Hope you're not sick of rabbit."

"I'll take what I can get." You muttered, suddenly aware of how empty you felt after having not eaten since the previous morning. "Remind me when we get to wherever it is we're going, to eat something green."

"There's plenty of grass around."Shouta snorted.

"Not-" you laughed, giving him a pitiful shove. "-I mean something edible to the human race."

"Ah," Shouta hummed. "well we do have that back home, so you're in luck."

Shouta speared chunks of meat onto rough skewers and set them up around the fire.

"So," Shouta began, "how are you holding up?"

"Hmm." you chewed the inside of your cheek. "I'm alive."

"That's good." Shouta smiled awkwardly, his hand reaching up to cup the back of his neck. He looked to the side and you could see a bit of redness around his ear from his view. "I mean- you look- Uh, you look like you're doing good."

"Well compared to what I must have looked like when you found me, I'd wager anyone would look better than me."

"N-no true." Shouta stammered. "Well, I mean- I've seen a lot worse. Not that what you went through wasn't horrible, I just meant-"

"I get it." You placed a hand on his arm. "You guys see a lot of things, some of them I imagine are pretty terrible."

"Yeah." He breathed. "So, your powers are impressive."

"Thanks. I sort of impressed myself last night," You pulled your hand away, realizing it had lingered a little too long. "that was the largest thing I've conjured before."

"It was- impressive." He muttered. "You're impressive."

"Th-thanks." You tried to age what was happening in Shouta's mind. He wasn't a stutterer as long as you'd known him, which admittedly hadn't been long but it was still strange. His ears were heating up, the tips slowly blushing. He was either very suddenly stricken by an infection or... embarrassed?

Shouta stood all of a sudden and cleared his throat.

"What you did! What you did was impressive." He looked away and swallowed. "And I guess you are the one who did it...that makes you... impressive."

"Thanks, again." You swallowed hard. It was as if the two of you were suddenly gulping down copious amounts of saliva between awkward exchanges. That feeling from earlier, the one that sent you back into feeling like a child harbouring their first crush came back, but this time it wasn't jealousy that brought it back but... affection. You panicked. "I-I need to go make sure Hizashi doesn't lose his leg!"

"Right." Shouta huffed and turned away. "I'm going to go find us a cart!"

He started off into the woods, slightly more east of where you'd originally come from. You took a deep breath and screwed your eyes shut, Jesus Christ that was awkward. You turned around to look at Hizashi, you might as well really go check on him. You opened your eyes to find Hizashi, slumped against the log, eyes still closed, the ghost of a smile on his lips. Was he awake? Shit. Did he hear that? You walked towards him slowly, his face not moving a muscle, and gently nudged him. It took two or three jostles but he started awake with a sharp inhale. Good, he was asleep. Or maybe, he is just a good actor.

He blinked away the sleep and rolled his head lazily to look at you, a dopey, sleep filled grin spreading across his lips.

"G'morning, beautiful." He yawned.

"It's too early for this." You mumbled more to yourself. At least with Hizashi he had always been more affectionate with you, it felt less exclusive. "I'm going to take a look at your wounds, alright?"

Hizashi nodded and shoved himself up into a proper sitting position, one where his neck wasn't craned forward and the lower half of his back wasn't on the ground. He looked around as if he was just now noticing where you were.

"Too early for what?" Hizashi asked innocently. "It's midday."

"To have a drink." You muttered. Wine would have made this whole week much more bearable.

"I'm flattered, but I would prefer if our first date weren't in the middle of the woods." He grinned even wider, amusement sparking in his eyes. "And you having to clean my wounds puts somewhat of a damper on things."

You rolled your eyes, now he must surely be making jest.

"It's a good thing I'm a professional healer then, Hizashi." You peeled away the set of bandages you had applied during the night and made to replace them, the edges had been frayed and mud from the trek had soaked through. "It takes more than a little bit of blood to ruin a date."

"I do prefer a lover with a gentle touch." He sang wistfully, watching you gently unravel the bandages.

You lightly jabbed his leg lightly making his jump more from shock of sensation than pain. You moved on to cleaning his leg, dabbing it gently with a wet clean rag.

"You're awfully bold this morning." you scolded him "Especially since Shouta is probably only a few yards away."

"Yes, well, I have to catch up." Hizashi explained, his voice a strange mixture of amusement and earnestness. "Who already had a head start, mind you he completely threw it."

"Catch up? Hizashi, what are you talking about?" You looked up from his leg to find his enthusiastic smile somewhat faltering.

"You know, you didn't scold Sho like that for flirting with you." He murmured.

"F-flirt? Shouta didn't- he wasn't- Oh Hizashi, no-" You scrambled to explain what exactly that exchange between you and him was. So he was awake! That little shit is too good at acting.

Hizashi laughed heartily, his head tossed backwards, painfully bumping the log. He winced but continued to laugh.

"That, that whole thing he just did, is definitely him trying to flirt." Hizashi rubbed the back of his head with a grin plastered across his face.

"I- W-what?" No. It couldn't have been...unless, had it been?

"Yeah, that sort of compliment he paid you, that's flirting for him." He nodded, very matter of factly. "It's very sweet once you get used to it."

"I- but-you- wait, you guys are-" you tried to wrap your mind around not only the knowledge that Shouta had outwardly been flirting with you but that Hizashi was acting so nonchalant about it.

"Open." Hizashi states.

You go pink.

"I-uh, need to get some water." Off you scurried, down the side of the hill with your water skin in your hand, only slightly scolding yourself for leaving hizashi on his own. You wouldn't go far, you told yourself. You made it about halfway down the hill, just barely unable to see the top when you hear Hizashi's voice, clear as day, calling after you. "I'll be back in no time!"

You could have sworn you heard him laugh as you scurried through the trees farther down the hill. When you made it to the bottom of the hill you took a deep breath, you'd been holding it since you'd quite literally ran away from your problem. You rung the empty waterskin through your hands and tried to focus on listening for a stream but the only sound that you could hear aside from your own heartbeat thrumming in your ears was Hizashi's voice repeating the word "open". Open.

"What does that even mean?" you finally blurted out after stewing for long enough. You shocked your head, there was no point in trying to act innocent with yourself, you knew exactly what it meant. "The nerve of those two!"

"They show up," You sat down on a weather worn stump, the trek down the hill proved to be just about all your exhausted body could take at the moment. You gazed back up at the hill, dred filling you knowing that you'll have to climb back up later. "all 'We're your saviors sent from God and also look at our faces. Look at how nice they are'."

You were acting childish now, you knew that, but you felt childish. You hadn't had anyone feel for you that way they had, or at least how they seemed to, not since you parents. Sure, you were an adult woman and had experienced romance before, flings with merchants, a short lived relationship with a young farmer on the other side of town before he found a woman worth marrying, but this, how they made you feel was different. You were stronger than to need anyone, you hadn't needed anyone since you were sixteen. Since you'd been left on your own. Hell, you still didn't need anyone.

But you knew you would be lying to yourself if you didn't admit you really wanted them in your life.

You sat straight up. The moment that though crossed your mind it fell silent, as if it had been turning over every thought it had to find that revelation. Suddenly you could hear the birds, the wind running through the canopy up ahead and the smell of fresh summer flowers wafted around you. You were suddenly very aware of the present.

Despite the last week, you were overcome with calm, a sense of calm you only really get when you feel safe and protected. You'd felt it as a child when you knew your mother was watching out for you when you played carefree in the garden or when your father would hold you curled in his lap when thunder shook the cottage. You'd never felt this sort of safety wrapped in the arms of your lovers before, not that you had ever felt unsafe either. But there was something in you that said 'they are your home'.

The sound of a harsh breath and uneasy whiney startled you right out of your calmed state. You jumped and spun around, every inch of you spring loaded and ready to run or fight if need be. Instead of being met with a villainous rider you were eye to eye with a very familiar horse. He sniffed your hair and nibbled against your tunic before deciding there was nothing edible on you and slowly turned back towards the longer patches of grass along the stream. It was the horse you and Shout had left tethered in the woods, the lead handing loose around his neck with the rope chewed off, slighting dragging across the ground.

"Are you secretly one of them?" you asked the horse suspiciously. He chortled and continued eating, unbothered. "I don't know what you heard, but you will betray nothing. Understood?"

You looked back up the hill and then back towards your stead, and smiled. Upon entering the campsite you were greeted with two emotions, in quick succession. The first was frustration, it was evident on Shouta's grumpy face and less so, but still present on Hizashi's. The next, as they laid eyes on the horse you were riding, was over enthusiastic relief, and in Hizashi's case, joy.

"A sign!" Hizashi blurted.

"I- I'm not even going to disagree." Shouta agreed, a look of appreciative superstition on his face.

"Is there a problem?" You asked, staring between them as they looked up at you.

"We needed a horse." Shouta explained.

"You have a horse." Hizashi further explained.

"Oh." You looked down at the horse and gave him a few appreciative pets. "He found me."

"Already making my life easier." Hizashi sighed, melodramatically. He earned a quick slap in the arm from Shouta that, if you hadn't been watching them, would have gone unnoticed with the speed at which he struck him.

"Ow."Hizashi breathed, pointedly at Shouta.

"Stop, it's weird." Shouta muttered and looked away from both of you.

"It's not." You blurted out. You froze, Shouta froze and most fantastically, Hizashi froze. In a series of extracting slow and choppy movements Hizashi and Shouta turned back towards you, you could see pink swelling at the tip of Shouta's ears and roses blooming in Hizashi's cheeks. Your own face grew warm. Stupid. "I mean, if you- you know, still want- uh"

How do you explain to two fully grown men that you just met a handful of days ago that you would also like to engage in this weird flirting, open relationship thing they had going on with you, but still sound respectable doing it? Thankfully Hizashi interrupted you.

"Who'd you like first?" he crossed his arms and grinned devilishly.

"W-what?" Not thankfully! Quite the opposite! That Cock.

"Zash, that's not-" Shouta started to scold Hizashi.

"What? It's a fair question!" He asked, full well knowing it wasn't.

"Roach." You deadpanned.

"R-Roach? Who-"Hizashi shivered at the word.

"The horse." You informed him, trying to regain your composure. "I've named him Roach since it appears neither of you have given the poor lad a name. He's been very sweet on me."

"W-why that name?" Hizashi had his tongue hanging out of his mouth now, like something that tasted horrendous was hanging off the end and he didn't know what to do with it.

"What do you mean?" You cocked your head to the side, watching him squirm.

"Ignore him." Shouta grinned. "He's as bad as a baby in a thunderstorm when it comes to the creepy crawlies of the world. I have a cart."

"Good for you." you congratulated him.

"Might you loan me your horse so he can pull my cart?" Shouta asked, an air of overdone fromaily painting his words.

"I may consider it." You had already decided of course, but took an extra long pause. "I suppose."

"How gracious." Shouta bowed his head quickly. It was the sort of gesture that might offend a more stringent lord who was so insecure in his throne that the sloppiest of curtsies deserved death. Yet something told you that that wasn't so far off from how he would have normally interacted with royalty.

"So, where is this cart?" You inquired.

"South east of here there's a road not too far off, managed to track down a caravan as they stopped to set up camp before nightfall. They have a cart they're willing to sell if I can be back by tomorrow with a means to pull it." Shouta explained.

"I have your means." You patted Roach fondly, he seemed to sway happily. He really was sweet on you.

"Yes. Would you and your means like to accompany me on a trip then?" Shouta was awfully good at playing along with your oddly light mood. You felt giddy every time he responded playfully, he wasn't as emotional or expressive and Hizashi but he had a small grin across his lips and seemed less put out than normal. He was happy, possibly about the cart, but you hoped, selfishly it was about you.

"Let's go." You tugged the reins to the side so Roach turned sideways and Shout had direct access to his side.

Shouta mounted Roach and in one swift motion pushed you forward a few inches, wrapped his arms around you and took the reins. There was a small part of you that wanted to insist you could take the reins, but that quickly faded when Shouta pressed forward and leaned his chin on top of your shoulder and whispered into your ear. "Lean into me so you down fall, I'll get us there."

You melted back into Shouta, and even though he took off at an uncomfortable trot, you felt that calm again. It was barely ten minutes to the road, the caravan had neatly settled into a makeshift clearing on either side of the road. Some of the carts were utility carts, heavy canvas draped over the top, and others were like small rooms put on wheels. They had rounded wooden roofs and colorful painted doors, flowers, real and painted, decorated the sides.

The members of the caravan were all sorts, some in dresses and fine travel wear and others in eclectic clothing that piled fabric and accessories. For the first time in a few days you were starkly aware what you must have looked like. Then, all of a sudden you thought about what you must look like to Shouta and Hizashi, and you suddenly grew very self conscious. There was a difference between poorly dressed and poorly kempt, and you were the epitome of both at the moment. Not to mention on top of that you were pale and gaunt still and had red, raw, still flaking skin along your limbs and most of our body. You tried to push that thought aside, scolding yourself for allowing such insignificant issues to matter to you whilst you were literally running for your life.

You scanned the camp looking for a cart that seemed unoccupied or had a smaller supply load. Across the road there was a smaller four wheeled cart, a worn canvas cover draped over a set of sort frames, the middle one was broken and the cover dipped there. That was the one, you could feel it.

Shouta entered the camp slowly, nodding occasionally to onlookers until he reached a jolly looking old man who was missing a few teeth but nonetheless smiled like he had the full set. He patted the cart when you arrived like a market salesman who was proud of his stock. He was about to over charge you, you could feel it.

When he did tell you the price you had to hold back from laughing, it was the kind of price you'd give a stuffy rich noble knowing even they would talk that price down. You looked at Shouta, surprised to see him shrug his shoulders and tiredly reach back into the saddlebags and pull out a sizable bag of coins. He looked down at it, nodded and tossed it to the man without batting an eye. There was a moment of silence before Shouta jumped down from Roach and started surveying the cart.

"Do you have any rope?" He asked the man, who had gone pale, just booking into the bag. He nodded and sent his boy off to get as much rope as he could find. While you couldn't be certain how much was in that pouch, you reckon you could live for a few months on it, from just the size. You dismounted Roach and helped Shouta hitch the cart to him. Shouta was reasonably silent throughout the whole thing, the man even feeling a little guilty at one point and trying to give him his change. To which Shouta just replied "I know how much I gave you."

"How much did you give him?" you asked as the two of you rode away on your new card.

"Not really sure." Shouta Shrugged. "Roach here used to belong to a rider from House Noro, so however much he had on him."

"You know," You stretched out across the bottom of the cart, unter what was left of the canopy. "I was about to lecture you on irresponsible spending. But never mind."

Shouta laughed.

You stared up at the sloping canopy and the broken wooden support above you. What parts had snapped had been removed and now one side was broken off right at the top of the cart and the other after about two feet above the cart. You studied the shape of the supports that were intact and by the time you rolled into camp and Hizashi scooted into the small cart next you, you were able to conjure a support in place of the broken one.

"Not bad." Hizashi praised, staring up at it from the floor of the cart, hands behind his head. "But can you maintain it without tiring yourself out?"

"Not sure." you shrugged. "Let's see how long I can go for. After all, you wanted to experiment."

For the next couple of days you switched off with Shouta, driving the cart and you made progress heading north.When you could you'd throw up a support beam, the longest you'd been able to hold it for was an hour, which in all fairness was the longest you'd held any conjuration, let alone one this size. It was slower, the three of you with one horse, than if you'd had the two you started off with but it sure beat walking the whole way. When you weren't staring at the rear end of a horse you were rattling around in the cart with Hizashi who, despite his injuries, was as talkative as ever. He was also, as you noticed with both you and Shouta, unable to keep his hands to himself. Whether he was holding Shouta's hand, leaning against you, curling into either of you at night for warmth, it was something about being in a confined space with him that made you realize how physical he really was. Shouta chuckled when you mentioned it on the last night, saying that he'd be able to find someone to cuddle with in an empty field.

The roads got rockier, the incline steeper and on the last day you pulled the cart over at midday to give Roach a much needed break.

"What's wrong?" Shouta appeared next to you on the driver's bench looking around.

"Nothing, it's just a hard road and Roach could use a break." You rolled your ankles. "I'm getting a little stir crazy, myself."

"Let's go for a walk." Shouta hummed, he'd obviously just woken up. "Let me wake Zash up, and tell him we're going for a look around."

You nodded and hopped off the driver's bench, the road was harder and your ankled pinched at the impact. You rolled them out again and looked around for the first time since you'd crossed over into the mountain paths. Ahead of you the road wound to a fro, deep green trees lining either side, a faint mist clouding the end miles away. Behind you the road was straighter, a mile or so away you could see softer dirt give way to the hard stone before trees swallowed that end as well. It felt strange, looking down a road you'd never seen before, both ends leading to places you didn't quite know. You'd lived in that cottage atop that hill your whole life. The eastern road leading to the farms for miles, the western road leading to the town, and the fork in the road that lead north lead to the river where you would cross a bridge and end up in the neighboring town. On this road, to the south there was a vast world you'd only just scratched the surface of but no longer belonged in, and to the north a new world lay, one that you had no notion of having ever existed before now.

"Having second thought?" Shouta asked behind you. It was that soft voice, the kind one that he'd used when you first met. His hand gently grasped your shoulder and he looked after your gaze down the long road back south. "You can always go back, if you want to."

"I-" you took a breath. You didn't want to go back, not really. You were just unsure about going forward. "There's no place for me back there, Sho."

"Hm." Shouta smiled. "There's always a place for you with us."

"I know." You nodded, your own smiling creeping across your face. "How much farther.

"An hour or so." Shouta wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in close. Since the day after the barn fire you'd explored getting closer with the boys. Hizashi took to it immediately, leaning against you, placing a hand on your thigh when he'd sit next to you on the driver's bench if Shouta was asleep and couldn't chastise him for sitting up front. Shouta was slower than Hizashi, he noticed that you were only just starting to get comfortable with Hizashi's physical affection in the last day or so and didn't want to push you. It felt sweet when he did though, as if it was extra special.

"I can drive." He murmured into your hair. "Go relax with Zash."

You nodded and climbed in the cart, Hizashi, half awake, throwing his arms around you. He was reduced back to a pile of snores, cuddling into you like a child would a teddy. You settled into him and off the three of you rode, down the hard stone path until

Shouta pulled the reins and guided Roach through a set of trees far enough apart to fit a larger wagon. For a brief moment Shouta disappeared before your eyes, the dense wood swallowing him, but then the world wavered and he was back. Before him stretched a long thin road that led up towards a great grey stone fortress nestled into the side of the mountain.

"Almost home." Shouta announced over his shoulder.

CHAPTER 10

Great stone walls rose before you, far off figures marching to and fro along the tops only stopping to watch the cart rumble up the road. Shouta pulled back on the reins and slowed the cart to a cawl, raising a single hand in greeting. The brush off to the side of the road rustled in different places, a handful of figures stepping out onto the road.

"Shouta Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada and a refugee, Y/n L/n." Shouta stated before even offering a greeting. There was a response of momentary silence and the sound of a quill scraping against parchment, then and gravel filled voice answered.

"Welcome back." A head poked into your view, it was topped with wild blonde hair and an elongated snout, like that of a dog.

You tensed for a second, leaning backwards instinctually. He was like nothing you'd ever seen before, a hybrid between a man and a hound. He smiled incredibly human-like despite his snout and scratched his head awkwardly.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." he gruffed. "I'm probably an odd sight, hm?"

Shouta turned and looked at you over his shoulder, his eyes were kind, soft, somewhat worried, but his lips were fighting off a grin. You looked back at the man and nodded awkwardly, you didn't feel up to talking just yet. The reality hit you suddenly, the reality that there were all sorts of gifted folk you couldn't have ever dreamed of, and you were finally at Kaer Yuuie.

"Hound Dog?" Shouta filled the silence. "Call ahead to Chiyo, both of them need medical attention."

Hound Dog looked over at Hizashi, who was still asleep and slouched against you, nodded and darted off. You sat up, trying to see past Shouta's shoulder, to watch him run off. At first he was on two legs then his shoulders drooped and his hands hit the ground, and in this quadrupedal state he took off at an inhuman speed. His booming growl filled the relatively silent woods and was followed by the moaning of great chains and the heavy creaking of metal.

The great gate that sat in the middle of the fortress walls was metal as opposed to the usual heavy wood, and as such forgoed the retractable metal grate before it. It was hoisted up in a series of pulls, pausing for a moment at the end of each so the team pulling it could get a new grip on the chains. You tried to picture how many men it took to open the gate, the image of a long line of stocky guards popped up in your mind.

Shouta spurred the horse forwards, the cart groaning quietly under the increased speed. It was very much to your surprise that upon passing through the gate, which on it's own showed how incredibly thick the walls were, that the team pulling the gate open was made up of about four young men, no older than fifteen or sixteen. One of them had fiery hair and a proud grin, another was blonde with crimson eyes and gritted teeth. The blonde was scolding the redhead over something but he just laughed it off and shouted across to the team on the opposite side of the gate. On that side a boy with messy green hair and freckles was paired with a tall,silver haired boy who wore a mask on the lower half of his face and had more than two arms. You couldn't help but stare for as long as you were able to as the cart rolled by.

You rolled through an area between two sets of walls a few yards apart. There were plain rows of buildings lining the outer wall, all sorts of people passing in and out of them, all wearing thick leather clothing with occasional pieces of chain or plate. Closer to the inner wall there were hay dummies, similar to the ones you'd seen the sparingly few times you'd had to go to the barracks in town and all sorts of platforms and elevated bars that people were jumping around on.

You passed through the second wall, just as thick as the other and here you were greeted by all sorts of activity. Colorful mismatched buildings lined the great wall and roads lined those, then more buildings formed three small city blocks. There were stands that sold all sorts of items, trinkets and jewellery, clothing and blankets, artisanal candles and books. As you traveled down a wide road, straight towards the center of the fortress people parted to the sides of the street, bright hair, glowing eyes, animal features and most noticeably smiles. Everyone one wore finer clothes compared to back home, there were no old women in fraying shawls and dirt covered farmers wearing overalls riddled with patches.

The houses fell away and you passed through a second thick wall. In this layer of the fortress all of the buildings were stone and covered in filigree. The cart came to halt and you slid forward into Shouta who held out his arm and gently steadied you. Your eyes were flying around trying to take it all in, there were four very distinct buildings, three of which were topped with great golden symbols and stood side by side. There was a giant golden mortar and pestle atop one, a giant sword and sheild atop another and the third building was topped with a giant golden tome. The fourth building was the largest of them all and fed into the mountain side. It's steps were golden, and had an arcade of great pillars that bore incredible carvings that swirled up and down their ridged surfaces. There was no large golden symbol affixed to the top of the entrance but you were able to surmise that it must be the house of Kaer Yuuie's Lord.

"Overwhelmed?" Shouta's voice was right next to you, his arm snaking around you back and under yours to help leverage you onto the driving bench.

"I- this place-" you swallow hard and resorted to just nodding. The buildings were taller than any you'd ever seen, the tallest building in the village your cottage bordered on was two stories and an attic but these appeared to be four or five.

"Makes you feel small, hm?" He followed your gaze and looked up. "I felt the same when I first arrived too."

"Aizawa!" A pair of men dressing with sterile white tunics rushed towards your cart from the open doors of the building with the mortar and pestle affixed to it.

Shouta looked down from the tops of the buildings and nodded to them.

"This is Y/n, she's in my charge. Hizashi is in the back and may be in need of a stretcher." He informed them, genturing ot you and throwing a thumb back over his shoulder. "Y/n, these men healers. They'll take you into the hospital, I'll meet you in there."

The two men looked friendly, they had polite smiles and kind eyes and hands outstretched to help you down from the cart. There was a monetary pang of fear in you, the only people you'd interacted with in the last week aside from Shouta and Hizashi had either actively been trying to kill you, or complacent in watching you slowly die before their eyes. You felt Shouta's hand squeeze your shoulder gently and his chin just bushed your shoulder.

"It'll be ok," he whispered softly "I'll be right behind you."

You breathed and nodded, taking the outstretched hands and stumbling off of the tall drivers bench.

The hospital was made of pristine polished stone inside and out, it smelled of tea tree and wormwood. You were led to a wing of the hospital that was made up of several long and wide halls lined with fluffy white cots on wooden frames. Wooden frames holding large sheets of parchment propped up on wheels divided each bed, from one another and you found yourself settled into a cot across from Hizashi who was still groggy from having slept most of the day away.

"Heeey." he greeted lazily, grinning.

"Hi." you gave him a small smile back.

"Hello to the both of you." A very small old woman sang from the doorway, at her side stood Shouta who was carrying a pile of clean clothes. "My name is Chiyo, Chiyo Shuzenji, I'll be your healer."

"This is the miracle healer I was telling you about." Hizashi said, somewhat more awake now.

"H-Hello." You greeted her, sitting up a bit taller against the wall.

"Now," Chiyo waddled over to you, Shouta following in her wake. "let's take a look at you."

Up close she still felt small, her eyes were squinted with age but glimmered under the wavering torchlight in the room. She had deep smile lines and a button nose that twitched as she smiled. She waddled up to your bedside and waved you off when you tried to sit up and swing your legs off the bed to face her.

"Give me your hand dear." she held hers out expectantly. You adhered to the request and reached out our hand, her own barely able to wrap around just one side of yours. He gave it some thought and brought it to her lips, pressing a small kiss against your tender skin.

It felt cool, not a biting cool like the spring you'd bathed in, but a calming cool like a fresh wash cloth pressed to your face when you have a fever. The cool feeling washed over your hand and up along your arm, stretching in waves across your back and chest. You watched amazed as your red peeling skin and blisters began to disappear, fresh pink skin in its wake. The skin on your hand and arm completely healed within moments, and that all over tight soreness of the burns leaving your limb. It felt better than you'd ever believed you could feel again.

A wide smile spread across your face as you watched, not quite sure if you should believe what you were seeing. You looked up at Hizashi who was already grinning at you, a bright pink blush flushing his face as he made eye contact, and noddin as if to confirm that this was real. You felt the tightness of your skin dissipate around your shoulder and upper back as well before the coolness faded. You looked at Shouta, and found him grinning as well, but his eyes were trained on your arm.

"How does that feel?" Chiyo asked, settling back on to a stool at your bedside.

"I-it's-" you struggled for words "it's a miracle."

"Not quite, but thank-you." She smiled kindly. "I won't be able to heal your whole body in one go, from what I felt you have all sorts of bruising and blistering. Possibly two ornthree days of treatment, alright?"

"It beats the weeks I'd have given my patients." you breathed, staring down your hand.

"You also felt exhausted, dear." She gave Shouta an exasperated look. " I'm going to give you something to help you get some sleep, I mean real sleep."

"Th-thank-you." you felt tears welling in your eyes.

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